#put it in plain text in a pop up PLEASE

[venacoeurva]

My first impression of procreate dreams is oh boy I hope they add in some customization beyond just being able to drag over procreate brushes from that app bc uh. it feels like they should have waited a few more months to make the app feel done? It feels like they forgot a lot of things? The UI is so minimalist without explanation it's confusing and the help tab feels like too much happening at once?

Like, if you wanna get it, wait a few updates because it's missing a lot of key stuff essential to most people's animation processes (like the lasso tool, and redo/undo that are buttons and aren't reliant on gestures alone)

[pbnbucks]

Could you please write Paige x fem x nika smut where they both get jealous over someone flirting with there girl and then it’s like smut please

word count : 1328

warnings : smutt, jealousy, angst, threesome, rushed at the end

summary : team outing and nika grabs paige to the side after seeing you and getting jealous and they plan on how to fuck u n then bam

nika was leaning against the bar as she was studying your every move as you where on the other side of the room as your body was side by side nikas biggest enemy, alleyne, a star player on the mens basketball team for the huskies, his big arm over your shoulder as you guys are giggling and making jokes all night long hes staring down your body

it dosent make it any better that your half naked with a small black skims top on and a leather mini skirt your girlfriend specifically said she didn’t like you wearing their in the first place, she looked for paige who was to busy talking to ice and Aubrey in the other corner so she texted for her to come here, she ignored is so nika triple texted her being inpatient and paige eventually made her way over.

“what do you need nika?” she rolls her eyes at the blonde “i dont know what you have been doing all night to not even notice alleyne trying to fuck our girl in plain sight.” paige looks around for a second trying to figure out what she was talking about but then she finds you, over there with the man whos leaning all over you.

“nika why dont we take her home” as the blonde says she looks over to the brunette with a side eye and smirk nika immediately understands what she means, nika makes her way over to you and grabs your by the arm pulling you away from alleyne before he or you can say anything.

“we dont want to hear anything from you until we get home understand?” she leads you out the club as paige notifys everybody that you guys are leaving and she rushes you into the back seat of the bentley as she sits in the passenger seat waiting for paige to start driving.

before you can even close the door fully nikas pulling your heels and clothes off and paige is making her way to suck your right nipple and her left hand going to grasp the other as she leads you to the bed.

it was obvious paige was the soft and sweet one where nika was the opposite, when she was angry it would last all day where she would punish you to no end.

paige lays you down on the bed peppering kisses down your stomach making her way to your lower stomach “you looked so gorgeous in your tight outfit, its a shame you didnt put it to good use, made mommy really sad with that one baby.”

you didnt care you just wanted her to make you feel good before nika would put you through the endless overstimulation “im sorry baby please, please make me feel s’good” you can feel her smirk on your lower stomach as her kisses get harsher against your soft skin, as she ends up deciding to give into your pleading she kisses your inner thighs making her way up to your sensitive cunt as she presses sweet soft kisses before licking a long stripe between your folds earning a sweet soft moan from your in applause,

she holds your legs open as she pushes her face closer to your dripping core if that was even possible, she goes fast enough to push you close enough to release but before you could your met with a loud popping noise of paige pulling away and the door opening to nika undressed with a red angry face as she pushes paiges head away from your cunt making her way to the edge of the bed next to you

“trying to get sympathy from paigey huh? i dont think brats deserve any of the attention your even getting right now” you pout as you hear the words leave her mouth not even knowing what you did to make the girl angry with you but it wasn’t anything you have seen before, she would never come to you angry like this she would always calm herself down before making her way to you but not this time. she brought her hand down to you before rubbing your clit in painfully slow circles teasing your entrance,

“paige would you be a dear and go get to strap out of the dresser please?” paige smiles as she makes her way over as nika directs her attention back to you before placing a hard slap on your cunt before grabbing the strap from paige as she puts it on. paige takes nikas spot massaging your breast as she kisses your neck and you know there will be hickeys already formed tomorrow.

nika places herself in between your legs telling you to hold your legs up as she places the strap at your entrance pushing in before a warning not letting you adjust causing you to arch your back of the bed only for it to be pushed back down by paige as she whispers in your ear “you know how to take it don’t act new to this”

you whine as you feel nika all the way your stomach as you look down seeing your stomach bulges from the strap receiving the first smile you’ve got from the brunette all night.

her thumb rubs your clit as she keeps her painful pace with the strap as you feel a knot forming in your stomach getting so close to releasing, and she can tell cause your body movements and moans get sloppier “you wanna cum baby? you think your deserve it after flirting with alleyne all night, you think he could ever make you feel this good?” so thats what it was, she was jealous.

“he could never make me feel as good as you mommy m’so big, just please make me cum ill be so good for you” and that was a promise because before you knew it she pushed you over the edge as there was cum dripping out of your pussy and off the strap,

before you could get any rest nika takes of the strap and your flipped onto your stomach as paiges bare pussy is laying under your face and nikas cunt is right under yours grinding against you. you lick soft kitten licks down paiges folds earning a sweet moan from her but quickly getting distracted from the harsh smacks on your ass as nika grinds against you pleasuring herself.

“so cute when your flustered princess” the blonde speaks in between moans, you let out a cry as nikas friction between your pussys only make you grow closer and closer to your release.

“thats it baby keep eating her pussy, just like that sweet girl” nika coo’s as paiges grip on your hair pulls into a makeshift ponytail “yes s’good”

paige whines as her voice cracks “s’close” she begs again as nika urges you to go faster, which you follow but the blonde doesn’t last 5 more seconds as she cums all over your mouth and jaw and her cum is still on your face as your press more kisses as you whine to the girl on your bottom half

“nika please im so close” but the girl just replies in a grunt “i know pretty girl, hold it a little longer” you dont think you can wait any longer but you knew if you didn’t it would be way worse for you.

“you ready mama? cum with me” you didn’t wait for her to finish her sentence as you cum on the girl under you as you drop your body onto her resting your face on paiges fucked out pussy in the position in between to 2 girls. before long paiges pulls you on top of her with your head now resting in the crook of her neck as nika lays next to the 2 of you holding her arm against your guys waist. “you gonna ignore us at the bar again?” “no ma’ams”

[itsnevercasual]

I Wanna Be Yours

pairing: boss!ceo!harry styles x reader

request: Omg, can I request a boss!harry fic where he’s mean to everyone except from her??

summary: harry is the notoriously mean owner of pleasing, and he might have a slight soft spot for the new girl in the marketing department.

warnings: cursing, not edited

--

you were extremely new to pleasing, a very famous brand known for their nail polishes and perfumes. ever since you started (about three months ago), you’d hear literal horror stories about the founder and ceo.

rachel, the girl who trained you, told you that he was just plain rude. it was safe to say you feared the day he came in. thankfully, he wasn’t around much. not at your location, anyway. you were at the los angeles location, but he preferred to stay at the new york one.

tuesday morning, you got ready like every day. put on your usual outfit (a skirt, white button-up, a blazer, and heels), along with some black fleece-lined tights and a headband to push your hair back. it was getting cold out, and you couldn’t get away with just a skirt much longer.

with your iced coffee in one hand, your macbook and a few files you’d taken home in the other, you walked quickly into the building.

“good morning, miss townes,” the concierge greeted you.

“morning, nancy!” you greeted back as you ran to the elevator and pressed the button.

“late?” nancy asked.

“almost! this stupid elevator—“ said elevator dinged, and you let out a sigh of relief. “speak of the devil. see you, nance!”

—

by the time you made it up to the marketing floor (the twentieth floor out of fifty), you were exactly on time.

you moved as quickly as your heels would allow, dropping your car keys, computer, and files onto the desk.

“right on time, y/n,” rachel teased as you sat down. the two of you had cubicles right next to each other.

“long line at the coffee shop.”

“lucky you weren’t any later,” she commented as you sat down and took a generous sip of the iced coffee that had almost made you late, “mr. styles is said to be coming in today.”

you nearly choked on your drink.

“you finished those edits, right?”

“.. uh.. yeah. yeah, finished them last night,” you lied with a nod.

“y/n! he’s ruthless— he will literally fire you! that’s the new launch, and it’s overdue!”

“i know! i know, but i’ve been so busy, and fucking josh keeps making me do his shit—“

“oh shit, shut up. he’s here.”

“what?” you squeaked, quickly cleaning up your desk and opening the new launch photos on both the desktop and your personal computer.

out of the corner of your eye, you watched as what had to be mr. styles strolled through with an assistant who was talking about what you assumed was his schedule.

“you’ll have a meeting with the investors at three, and we have some papers to sign—“

you tuned her out as you tried to speed up the editing— brightening colors and adjusting the text so it fit better.

and suddenly, the footsteps of mr. styles and his assistant stopped. directly in front of your desk.

“you,” a voice spoke, and oh my god, he was british, “i don’t know you. who are you?”

your eyes snapped up to meet his, “oh. uh.. i’m y/n.. y/n townes. i’m.. um.. i’m new.”

he mouthed your name as if thinking it over.

“you’re the one doing the edits for the new launch?” he asked.

“yes, sir.”

he nodded before continuing his stroll. because, of fucking course, his office had to be on the marketing floor.

you let out a breath, sinking into your chair. rachel grabbed your arm with a comforting smile, “it’s okay, babes. he could’ve been rude.”

“he’s gonna see i’m not done and fire me!”

“it’s fine, just don’t think about it.”

—

right as you were about to head out on a quick lunch break, mr. styles’ assistant popped up at your desk.

“ms. townes, mr. styles requested your presence in his office. you, as well, ms. evans,” she said, glancing at you and rachel.

“uh— me? for.. for what?” you questioned.

“you’ll find out. i have to find a.. josh richardson. go on.”

you and rachel shared uneasy looks as the two of you stood and made your way to mr. styles’ office.

“if i get fired, i’m jumping out of a window,” you muttered as rachel pulled the door open.

“ah, ms. evans. ms. townes…. where is mr. richardson?” mr. styles spoke.

“your assistant went to grab him,” rachel answered. “what are we needed for?”

“you’ll see… ah, mr. richardson. so kind of you to join us.”

even you could tell he did not mean that.

“what is this?” josh asked, looking to you and rachel.

“you three were all put in charge of the new launch. correct?”

you all chorused variations of yes.

“and yet… nothing is done. why is that?”

you glanced to your shoes. you knew rachel was done. the whole project was all three of you were to make 300 campaigns and promo photos for the new nail polish launch. you'd devided it to be 100 each, and you all picked however many billboard designs, posters, social media posts, and so-ons that you'd do for the project. however, josh had slowly but surely pushed all of his work onto you.. until you had to do 200, and you only had around 130 done.

“i expect an answer.”

“i.. i finished all my photos and campaigns,” rachel finally said.

“i'm nearly done with.. my things. i was just helping josh before i--“

“so.. what i’m hearing so far, and correct me if i’m wrong, is that mr. richardson hasn’t been doing his job?”

josh cleared his throat, and you could feel the daggers he was glaring at you burning into your skull, “yes, mr. styles.”

mr. styles nodded, and you understood the horror stories now. he wasn’t even trying and he was terrifying. “do you like your job, mr. richardson?”

“yes, mr—“

“so why aren’t you doing it?”

“i— i’ve been.. busy.”

“busy.. right. well, i’ll make you less busy. you’re fired. get out.”

“wh— what? you can’t fire me!”

“i believe i can. and i just did. so get. out.”

“i have worked at this company for eight years! i make one mistake, and—“

“i will not ask you again!” mr. styles shouted, standing up from his chair. you flinched. “because i am not asking you, i am telling you. you are fired, and you will leave this building. and don’t even think about puttin’ this place on your resume, i won’t say a single good word about your ass.”

josh scoffed and stormed out of the room, you and rachel followed.

you turned the corner, yelping when someone grabbed your wrist and yanked it.

“what the hell, y/n? you said you’d do my—“

“i didn’t say that. you just assumed i would. i am not just apart of the valentines launch, josh, and i have fifty other things to do, and i can’t drop that just because you’re lazy.”

“you better watch what you say to me—“

a voice spoke from behind. mr. styles’ assisant, “uh.. miss townes? mr. styles requests he speak with you.. privately.”

you yanked your arm back, rubbing your wrist, “yes. of— of course. sorry.”

you walked back towards his office with your head down, glancing up at him once you entered the room.

you were surprised to see a... calm look on his face.

"miss townes, correct?" he asked.

"ye-.. uh.. yes, sir."

he smiled, which was very odd from what you'd seen of him so far, "you can relax, darling. you aren't in trouble. have a seat."

you hesitantly wandered towards the chair on the other side of his desk.

"what did you mean by.. helping mr. richardson with his work?"

"oh, well... he just.. he kept saying he was busy and asking if i could do.. certain parts of his work. and i--.. well, sometimes i'm a bit of a pushover, so i said yes."

"i see... and how much of his work, in total, did he push onto you?"

"uhm... all of it, mr. styles."

his eyes widened, "all of it? and you didn't tell a supervisor he wasn't planning on doing any of his work?"

"i.. i felt bad," you shrugged, looking down at your hands.

"yes. well... mrs. maruska, can you please bring mr. richardson back in here for a moment, please?"

you jumped when his assistant spoke behind you, not realizing she was even in the room.

"yes, mr. styles."

it was silent for a minute after the door shut, maybe two minutes, until the door re-opened and two pairs of footsteps entered.

"mr. richardson, before you leave, you are going to do something for me," mr. styles spoke. "you are going to apologize to y/n--"

you nearly choke on your own spit at his use of your first name.

"for making her do all of your work. and.. you will also apologize for whatever the hell that was i heard outside. that is no way to speak to any colleague."

josh scoffed, "i'm not apologiz--"

"i'm not asking."

mr. styles gaze switched to you as josh begrudgingly sighed, "i'm sorry, y/n."

"it's okay," you murmured, glancing at him.

"no, it isn't," mr. styles quickly interjected, keeping his eyes on you. you much preferred them on you than on josh. they were a lot kinder when they focused on you. softer. "but.. if ms. townes says it is alright... you may leave now."

you aren't quite sure what happens afterwards, because you keep your gaze away from mr. styles, because you're afraid he'll notice how nervous he makes you.

"how many did you have left?" mr. styles asked quietly. softly.

"i have 130 done. so.. seventy left. but i-- i can get them done soon, i promise. i can just stay late, or.. or--"

"no. none of that. you'll submit the ones you have.. and we'll figure out something for the rest."

"really? i mean.. are you sure?"

"i wouldn't have offered if i wasn't. you can go, now."

"thank you, mr. styles," you mumbled, standing and walking to the door.

right as you grabbed the handle, he called out.

"oh, and y/n?"

you turned around with a furrow in your brows.

"let me know if you have any other problems."

you can't even help the foolish smile on your lips as you nod and leave the room.

--

a/n: part 1!! i really love this request

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: anon request - "i neeedddd more fics of jake eating the reader out!! can you make one??" 

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, masterbation, toy usage (solo and together), mainly oral (f rec), fingering, squirting, dirty talk, praising, pet names, sexting, breeding kink? really descriptive filth - read with caution 

Word count: 1.6.k | not edited 

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

It's been a few days since you and Jake last had sex. 

You both were busy people and by the time you get home, you're both exhausted and usually end up passing out on the couch. 

You were home today, which only led to you craving him. 

Aching for him to be in between your legs. 

You needed him and you were going to find a way to get him home. 

You pull out your phone, typing out a text to Jake, you wanna know something? 

You chew on your lip as you wait for a response. A smirk grows on your lips as he gives you the go ahead, Spill the tea baby. 

You laugh slightly and shake your head, I've been craving you all. Damn. Day. 

You bite your lip as you hit send and your heart starts to race faster. You get nervous, you'd be embarrassed if someone actually saw anything. 

Your phone rings with Jake's text tone and you pick it up, Aw hellll yeah!! I'll be home soon baby, okay? 

You whine, Please make it soon. I need you. You smirk as you set your phone down. You step back and lean down, opening Instagram. 

You scroll down a few posts, liking some, reading comments on others, until you get to one specific post and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

Jake posted, and he posted the pictures from his recent shoot. 

Pictures that you didn't get to see. 

You bite your lip, smirking as you decide to roll with it. You go back to your message thread with Jake and giggle, What the fuck, babe? You're really going to do that to me? 

Jake instantly responds, Whoa what do what? 

What did I do? 

You feel bad for laughing, but you know you're going to get him good, You actually posted those pictures? Without letting me see first? 

You see the bubbles pop up, followed by a really plain text from Jake, Really. 

You smirk, tilting your head as you type, They're so hot, Jake. What the fuck.

You laugh and rest your chin in the palm of your hand as you wait. You roll your eyes as you read his text, letting out a laugh, They are hot, but you know what's hotter? Where this conversation is heading so keep it going baby. 

So you comply, keeping the conversation going, in hopes it'll get him home sooner, And then to only see them after I tell you how much I need you, Jake, baby. I think I need to do something about it. 

You press and put your thumbnail between your teeth, biting down gently as you anxiously await for a response. 

Your phone lights up and you let out a breath as you lean in, your cheeks heating up as your eyes scan over the text. 

Don't get off until I come home. Leaving now. 

You strip your clothes as you make your way to the bedroom, leaving a trail for Jake to follow as soon as he walks through the door. 

Excitement coursing through your body, "Yes yes yes!"

You throw your phone down on the bed and walk over to what Jake call, The Special Fun Time Drawer, and look over your options. 

You grab your wand and take a deep breath, "Please be charged, please be charged." 

You press the button and a low zzzzzz starts to sound. You let out a sigh and click it off, "Fuck yes." 

You shut the door, but not all the way, and walk back over to the bed. You get under the covers and spread your legs.

You gasp as you feel the vibration glide through your clit. You bring your phone up, snapping a picture of your boobs that are half covered by the blanket with a text, to see full boob, you need to make it up to me for making me wait. 

You set your phone down, tilting your head back as the thought of Jake coming home to fuck you ravages through your mind. 

Your phone buzzes and you bring it up, smirking as you read over his response, You don't have to worry about that baby. I'm coming to make you feel good. 

You kick the blankets off, taking another picture of Jake, but this time it's your pov and it's a video instead. 

You roll your hips against your vibrator, whimpering out quietly as you angle your hips on a spot that sends a chill of pleasure over your body. 

You force yourself to pull the wand away, pressing stop  before sending it to Jake. 

You lay your head back, breathing heavy as you clench around nothing, "Fuck." You whine out, picking up your phone. 

Jake read your message right away, quickly responding, Did you cum yet? 

You tap across the keyboard with your thumb , I didn't, daddy. I promise. 

The response you got back from Jake was shocking, but fucking hot, Fuck I'm getting you pregnant.

You needed him so bad, you'd do anything, You can do anything to me. You set your phone down, eyes fluttering shut as you press the vibrator harder against your clit, "Fuck, fuck." 

You grab the sheets below you grinding your hips as you moan out quietly. Your heels dig into the bed and you're almost there. 

But you stop because Jake's voice startles you, "Are you about to cum?" 

You look over at him, sitting up slightly, "N-no." 

He smirks, slipping his shirt off, "Liar." 

You laugh slightly, whining, "I need it, Jake." You toss the vibrator on the bed and fall back, "Please." 

"I need it, Jake." He mocks you as he crawls up onto the bed,  "Please Jake."  He lays a hand on your knee, spreading your legs open, his whole mood changing the second he seen your soaked cunt. 

He moves in between your legs, laying down, "You're soaked." 

"Haven't had ya in a while." You whine and Jake chuckles, "Yeah, yeah. I'll get right on that." 

He moves his head between your legs and presses his mouth onto your pussy. His lips part and his tongue slips out, dragging up and down your opening. 

You let out a relieved gasp, moaning loudly as your back arches off the bed. 

He slides up, lips curling around your clit. You lay your hand on his head and tilt your head back, "Fuck. Jake." 

He lifts his head, "I still don't want you to cum yet." 

You groan, "P-please." He kisses the inside of your thigh, "It'll be worth it, baby. I promise." He reaches beside you, grabbing your vibrator off of the bed, "I'm gonna need this." 

"No, no." You whine, "Don't tease me." 

He clicks the button and all you get back in response is the buzz the wand. 

You let out a sigh and watch as he drags it down the inside of your thigh, "Just lay back and let me make it up to you, okay?" 

You nod, biting your lip as he sets the vibrator on your clit, causing your thighs to tense a little bit. 

Jake chuckles slightly, "That feel good?" You nod at him and he smirks, "Good, let me hear ya, baby." 

He slides the wand down onto your opening, resting it against as his lips move to suck your clit. 

His tongue flicks over the sensitive nub and the vibration radiating through you drives you nuts. 

You moan loudly, wiggling your lips, "P-please, Jake." 

Jake moves the wand and dips his head down, slipping his tongue into you. You lay your hand on his head, moaning out loudly, "Shit." You reach beside you grab your wand. 

Jake moves so you can press the vibrator to your clit and he slips two fingers inside of you. He presses a hand to the side of your thigh and holds your leg open as he pumps his fingers in and out. 

"F-fuck." You moan out loudly, "D-Daddy, please let me cum." 

Jake smirks, "Whatcha want baby?" 

You moan out, clenching around his fingers, "Can I please cum, daddy?" 

Jake gets up, fingers still in your pussy, "Can you cum right now?" You nod quickly, "y/yes." Jake curls his fingers and you add pressure to your clit, "P-please." 

You arch your back, eyes rolling closed as his fingers curl up and down repeatedly, "Fuck." 

"Cum for me, baby." Jake says as he speeds up the pace of his fingers. You let out a loud moan, arching your back off the bad as you cum. 

You look down, watching as Jake keeps rubbing your pussy as you squirt, "Fuck." You moan loudly, "Shit, shit." 

"Atta girl, baby." Jake leans up, planting a kiss to your temple, "How was that?" 

You smile up at him nodding, "So good." 

"Mm." Jake leans in kissing your neck, "Feel good?" 

"Felt so fucking good." You whisper, "Need more of you." Jake nods with a chuckle and you give him a look, "What's so funny?" 

He pulls you up to him, "It's that Jake Webber effect." 

You laugh, "Oh yeah? And what's that exactly?." You place your hands on either side of his neck. 

Jake smirks, tilting his head, "You can't go a day without me or else you turn into a lunatic." 

You smirk and lowly and shrug, "Can't help that I'm addicted to you." 

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I know this is short im sorry, but I hope you enjoyed! 

Thank you for reading! Ilysm 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated! 🖤

[no-name-publishing]

Kill the Director by erikschampion

My part in a gift exchange taking place in Renegade's California satellite server. This was a lot of fun and very experimental for me. My idea was to pursue something a little grunge, a little smudged, to go along with the early 2000s Brit punk vibe that the fic gets its title from. Spray paint, screen printing, some blood, some tears, and it's to its new home. Glamour and process shots under the cut!

The yellow base is a plain linen bookcloth that's been coated with acrylic. The pink accent color is a combo of spray paint and smudges of pink Golden Fluid acrylic paint. The endbands are sewn with Gutermann polyester florescent sewing thread, and the endpages are my attempt at an italian vein marble with pink, yellow, and black paint.

Some shots of the typesetting, and a video showing the book as a whole. The fic has some exposition written in a script format, so I typeset that to reflect. And it's always fun to include text message bubbles and emails and stuff.

The graphics on the case were done with screens and waterbased screen printing ink! I went through a few iterations and even tried to set my kitchen on fire in order to get it right before settling on the screens. I'm very very pleased with the result. (The fire was from my DIY attempt at making my own gelli plate with gelatin, glycerin, and rubbing alcohol. All the instructions were telling me to be careful about how many bubbles I was stirring into the mix but I was like, it'll be fine. I'll use my heatgun or a lighter to pop whatever bubbles are there. It works with resin so it should here. Yall alcohol is flammable lmao. Why did I do that. I put my lighter up to those bubbles and lost my vision for a moment at the flash of light. I've never done something that stupid)

The freshly marbled paper hanging up to dry in my kitchen; the screen for the front of the case; my practice piece including the spine design; the case drying on my shower rod (along with some pieces of fabric for another project lol). I have fewer process pictures than I thought lol.

The graphics on the front and back were also partially designed by hand. I printed images of the characters then cut them vertically, and alternated the slices. Copied that, then did the same horizontally. Scanned that, and then did some cleaning up digitally on my computer. Here's some shots of the steps and the pieces themselves.

The third picture shows my first attempt, as I actually did this process twice. The first time I didn't feel like the first pass was pixelated enough, so I cut it again both vertically and horizontally and alternated them once more. This was a mess, and ultimately I didn't like the finished result. Round two (second image) was the final round, and what wound up using in the project instead.

Thanks for looking!

[cinnamooniee]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬 [part 2]

Characters : college student jungkook x college student fem reader

Genre : Angst but comfort later on, fluff??

Warnings : Mentions of alcohol.

read part one <3

The sight of his name, even in that small font, made your stomach twist all over again. You hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. Part of you wanted to answer, to hear what he had to say, to let him try to explain himself—or maybe even apologize. But the other part of you, the part that was exhausted, that was hurting, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

With a shaky breath, you silenced the call, letting it ring out as you stared out of the window. The quiet hum of the car and the rhythmic flicker of streetlights through the window felt soothing, like a balm over the jagged edges of your heartache.

A few seconds later, your phone buzzed again. This time, it was a text.

Jungkook: Y/N, please pick up. We need to talk.

You felt a fresh wave of frustration as you read his message. The nerve he had to act like he cared now, after all those hurtful things he’d said. All you’d wanted was to understand, to find some kind of way back to the closeness you once shared. But instead, he’d pushed you away, dismissed your feelings, and thrown blame at you as if you were the one at fault.

Another text buzzed through, then another.

Jungkook: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say those things.

Jungkook: Can we just talk? I need to explain.

Your phone continued buzzing, message after message lighting up the screen. Each one made you grip your seatbelt a little tighter, fighting the urge to respond. You couldn’t—at least not right now. The words wouldn’t come, not when everything felt so tangled and raw inside.

Finally, there was a pause, a minute or two of silence. You exhaled, trying to ground yourself in that temporary calm. But the quiet didn’t last long.

Maybe you’re asleep already… I’m sorry for bothering you so late.

A pang hit you as you read that line. Did he really think you could just sleep after everything? He knew you better than that—at least, you thought he did. But maybe you’d been wrong all along.

Another text followed, slower, like he was second-guessing himself.

I just hope you got home safe.

You swallowed, feeling an ache settle in. He was probably picturing you curled up in bed, phone on silent, dozing off without a second thought. But here you were, staring at his words in the dim glow of your screen, unable to find peace in any of it.

Ok. I’ll check in tomorrow then, sleep well, Y/N.

The last message hung there, a final thread connecting the two of you, but it felt frayed—worn thin by all the words left unsaid, all the pieces you didn’t know how to put back together.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The next morning, you roll over to see your phone blinking with unread messages. You try to ignore it, but a knot of guilt tightens in your chest, knowing exactly who it’s from.

You can’t keep avoiding him forever. The thought pops up, uninvited, with a mix of dread and determination. It feels like every time you ignore him, it only makes things worse.

With a sigh, you open the texts. His messages are there, unreadable yet loud on the screen—probably asking if you got home safely, wondering why you didn’t reply. A wave of conflicted emotions rolls over you; you want to explain, but part of you is also tempted to stay hidden.

After a long minute of hesitation, you finally type a reply:

"I was tired last night."

Then you erase it.

"I got home fine, thanks."

Delete.

"Thanks for checking in on me."

Another delete.

With a frustrated sigh, you run a hand through your hair, feeling ridiculous for spending so long trying to find the perfect words. You don’t owe him an explanation; there’s no need to apologize or over-explain.

Finally, you settle on a message:

"I got home safe."

Plain, simple. It’s just enough to let him know you’re okay without giving away too much. You hit send before you can change your mind, then set your phone down, wondering if this will finally ease the tension… or make things even harder.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The morning drags on, and you keep glancing at your phone, half-expecting a response from Jungkook. But the silence only amplifies your nerves. Just as you��re about to drown yourself in the endless sea of homework, your phone buzzes, and it’s him.

"Hey, can I come over?"

Your heart races at the thought of him showing up, and you hesitate, staring at the screen. You want to tell him no, to reinforce the distance, but the words just won’t come. Instead, you let it go unanswered, hoping he’ll take the hint and change his mind.

Two hours pass, and just as you start to relax, a sudden knock on your door jolts you from your thoughts. You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice comes through, slightly muffled but unmistakable. “I brought you something.”

Your stomach sinks, surprised that he actually came over. You take a deep breath and make your way to the door, opening it just a crack. Jungkook stands there, looking a bit disheveled, holding a small bouquet of flowers that looks like it came from the local convenience store—a few wilted blooms tied together with a fraying ribbon.

“I, uh… I got these for you,” he says, awkwardly holding them out like a peace offering. “I didn’t want to come empty-handed. Can I come in?”

A wave of frustration crashes over you. He really thinks this is okay? After last night, he just shows up with cheap flowers? “Why do you think that’s going to change anything?” you snap, your anger bubbling to the surface. “You yelled at me and acted like it was no big deal . What do you mean? We had a fight and you dumped me--maybe?! And now you're just...

You don't even have the words to explain your frustration right now.

His eyes widen in surprise, and you can see the realization dawning on him, but you don’t give him a chance to respond. “Oh, and let’s not forget how you flirted with that girl right in front of me! And that you went right back to it after we fought."

He looks taken aback, mouth opening slightly as if to respond, but you cut him off once more. “I don’t even know what you want from me! You show up here like nothing happened. Do you think some wilting flowers are going to fix this?”

His expression shifts from surprise to guilt, and you can see he’s struggling for the right words. “I didn’t mean to make you feel that way, Y/N. I just wanted to talk.”

“Talk?” You scoff, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “What’s there to talk about? You decided to bail when things got tough, and now you’re here with a lame excuse for an apology?”

“I didn’t bail! I just…” He runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. “I thought maybe if I came over, we could sort things out. I’m sorry for how I acted. I care about you, okay? I just didn’t know how to handle it.”

You roll your eyes, your heart racing with anger. “Care? If you really cared, you wouldn’t have treated me like that. You think I can just forget that?”

Jungkook’s shoulders slump, and he looks down at the flowers in his hands, the weight of your words clearly hitting him. “I know I messed up. I just thought—”

“Thought what? That this would all be okay just because you showed up with stupid flowers? You’re delusional,” you cut in. “I can’t keep avoiding you, but I’m not just going to pretend like everything’s fine!”

He looks hurt, his eyes searching yours for some sign of understanding. “I just wanted to fix things. I thought you’d want to talk about it too.”

You take a step back, feeling overwhelmed by everything—your anger, your confusion, the weight of his gaze. “I’m busy, Jungkook. Just… just go.”

Please,” he finally says, his voice quiet but firm. “I just want to talk to you. I’m not leaving until we sort this out.”

“What do you want me to say?” you shoot back, your frustration boiling over. “You come here with flowers like that fixes everything, and you expect me to just let you in? You really think I’m going to be okay after last night?”

“I know I messed up!” he replies, his frustration matching yours. “But I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t realize how it would come across, and I want to explain myself. Can we at least talk about what happened?”

You stare at him, the determination in his eyes making it hard to look away. As much as you want to slam the door in his face, a part of you is curious—maybe even hopeful. But that hope is buried deep under layers of anger and confusion.

“I’m not interested in hearing excuses,” you finally say, trying to keep your voice steady. “You’ve already made it clear how you feel.”

“I know,” he admits, his voice dropping. “And I get why you’re angry. But please, just give me a chance to explain. I don’t want to lose you over this.”

You feel a mix of emotions swirling inside you—anger, hurt, and a hint of the connection you’ve had with him. You want to scream at him, to tell him to leave, but another part of you just wants to hear what he has to say.

“Fine,” you say finally, your voice low. “But you better not waste my time.”

As you step back and open the door wider, Jungkook enters, his gaze focused on you as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed. He looks around your room, a hint of nervousness in his posture.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, his voice softer now. “I just… I messed up, and I’m trying to fix it. I didn’t mean to flirt with that girl; it was stupid, and I didn’t think about how it would affect you. I get that it made you feel uncomfortable, and I should have been more aware. You’re the only one I want to be with.”

You hold his gaze, searching for sincerity in his eyes. “You don’t get to just play around with my feelings, Jungkook. You can’t expect me to just forget everything because you’re suddenly apologetic.”

“I know, I know,” he replies, desperation creeping into his voice. “But I’m here now. I want to make things right. Just tell me what I need to do. I’ll do anything.”

You take a deep breath, fighting the urge to soften. “You don’t get it. It’s not about flowers or grand gestures. It’s about respect and understanding. If you want to be with me, you need to start acting like it.”

“I will. I promise,” he says, leaning forward, his sincerity palpable. “I care about you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to prove that.”

You stare at him, the walls around your heart feeling like they’re starting to crack just a little. But the anger still simmers beneath the surface. “Just know that I’m not going to make it easy for you.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he replies, a small smile breaking through the tension. “Just let me try.”

You give him a reluctant look, still wary, maybe—just maybe—this could be a step toward something better..? Maybe he meant it. Maybe he truly was sorry.

As the tension hangs heavy in the air, Jungkook shifts slightly, a mixture of determination and vulnerability in his expression. You can see the sincerity in his eyes, and it stirs something within you—an urge to let go of the anger, if only for a moment.

He leans closer, and without thinking, you hold your breath, your heart racing as he reaches out. His fingers graze your arm softly, and it sends a jolt of electricity through you. Then, in a surprising yet gentle motion, he cups your face, tilting it toward him.

“I’m really sorry,” he whispers, his voice barely above a murmur. “For everything. Last night was a mess, and I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

Before you can respond, his lips brush against yours—soft and hesitant at first, as if he’s testing the waters. The kiss is sweet, laced with an apology that goes deeper than words. You can feel the warmth radiating from him, and for a fleeting moment, the anger dissipates, replaced by a wave of emotions you thought were buried.

He pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, breathing heavily. “I swear, nothing happened with that girl. It was all just… nothing. I don’t want anyone else but you, Y/N. You mean too much to me.”

Your heart flutters at his words, and he continues, his voice earnest. “You’re amazing. You’re smart, beautiful, and so much more than I deserve. I take back every single thing I said last night. I was an idiot. I was half drunk, and we had been fighting for weeks before that- and I just didn’t know how to handle it."

You look into his eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity, but all you see is raw honesty. “I messed up,” he admits, his expression vulnerable. “But I want to make it right. I want to show you that I care.”

The sincerity in his voice tugs at your heart, and you find yourself softening. “It’s just hard for me to trust you right now,” you confess, your voice wavering slightly.

“I get it,” he replies, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “But I’ll prove it to you. I’m here, and I want to be with you. Just give me a chance.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his gaze. In that moment, everything else fades away, and it’s just the two of you—raw, real, and vulnerable. You nod slowly, your heart racing as the anger you held onto begins to melt away, replaced by something warm and hopeful.

“Okay,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just… show me.”

Jungkook’s expression brightens, relief washing over him as he leans in once more, capturing your lips with his in another soft kiss. This time, it feels different—deeper, more meaningful, as if it’s sealing a promise between you.

As you pull away, you can’t help but smile a little, the tension easing between you. “You better keep that promise,” you tease lightly, though your heart still flutters at the warmth of his presence.

“I will,” he assures you, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and sincerity. "I love you Y/N, I really do"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

tags<3 : @thelittlecatonthecake

[lil-scout-precure]

Junior Eurovision 2023 Personal Ranking (by tiers, before the show).

First of all, hello. It's been some of a not long but still some time I've never made a text post here. Some things changed since then: I got a new job as a Web Developer since August (luckily). I'm about to get graduate from University. And well, some thoughts about my future and what I accomplished made me change some ways I think about life (and likings, for better or worse...depends)

But with Junior Eurovision 2023 on the go (and after enjoying Eurovision 2023 to the maximum), I knew I had to make a new opinion list. This time is a tier ranking, as one, most of the songs are ballads and I had to think a better way to rank them depending of my likings and preferences, and two, I'm not as impressed as last year's edition due to the previous fact.

So here it is, my personal tier-ranking for this year's 16 songs competing in Nice, France for the trophy!

Let's explain the ranking tiers, from lower to higher:

"I heard better ones in previous years": Let's face it, they're not too bad or plain as some NQs in adult Eurovision (or even some qualifiers), and for being made by/for children, they are a good start. However, personally, either they didn't catch me and/or I was expecting better from them (Georgia). Therefore, I would be surprised if the live version makes them look better.

"Unlikely but potential Top 5/Winners(?)": While not as awesome as the upper tiers, I found those songs more endearing/moving than the lowest one. And for some cases (France and UK), if placed well in running order and live delivery, who can't say they can't have a good score placing (or maybe, and I say MAYBE, win)?

"Not winners, but I identify myself with them": The wild card of the tiers. While I don't see them winning the contest so easily and there are BETTER songs I like, the reason they are above the two lower tiers is because somehow, by lyrics or the studio video (or both), I ended up sobbing/crying in the middle of work like Elemental's Wade got identified with them. If the staging allows them, they can achieve to be dark horses to get Top 5 or even victory

"I will kill OsterdahlEBU if they mess with the staging or the running order (or place the lower spots)/hj": The difference between these songs and my personal winners is very small (or the perception of the fandom in general). These ones are mostly because I can picture them with a well-done staging and vibes to become legends (and bias in case of Germany, since Ohne Worte deserves the best performance with the sign language detail and love put in it by Fia for her lil sister). And as the title say, the only thing that can totally ruin their chances are either the staging/live performance, and the running order (please NOT Germany starting the contest AGAIN, we know what happened to Pauline and Susan T-T). I wish them ALL the luck I have

"Very nice of them to invite other JESC artists to their concert": In my personal opinion, they have it ALL. They have strength in the song itself, the voices, the vibes, even their live staging (if things go well). Ireland because of the Celtic essence (and FRICKING Sophie Lennon joining Jessica), Spain because of the JESC-fit melody and dreams (please don't remove Sandra's swing, France TV, it's not Loreen's panini press), Netherlands because of their EDM and lifting song, and Armenia because of the UNEXPECTED (yet welcome) K-pop mode they are delivering. My televote is on their side, and they are the first ones I will vote for on Friday 24th. A crime if they somehow are placed LOW.

And that's all. My ranking resumee. In days I will share my more detailed personal opinions by tier. See ya!

[sara-scribbles]

Between the Stacks

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Malleus Draconia/GN!Reader Other Characters: Sebek Zigvolt, Silver, Lilia Vanrouge Word Count: 5,586 Summary: Malleus finds a way to explore Briar Valley without people noticing him. He happens upon a lending library where the story begins. Note: This is an AU with no NRC. It was a fun little idea that popped up. I'm also a sucker for royalty stories, so I might write one for Leona when I get the chance. Warnings: None

---------

People still unconsciously move away from him, but most don’t really pay attention. There’s nothing he can do about his magical presence. However Malleus is pleased that they don’t recognize him as future ruler of Briar Valley. At least they treat him like another person, which means being ignored.

He wanders through the central plaza, weaving in and out of shops. He observes the many vendors shouting their wares to anyone who passes by. It’s all very lively compared to the palace. The smell of food lingers in the air, enticing people to stop and have a bite. Most of the food is simple yet looks divine and smells even better.

Of course Malleus has been to the central plaza before with Lilia. The once bustling plaza would turn eerily silent as all eyes were on him; only the occasional whisper could be heard. The crowds would immediately part for them. No one dared to step in front of them. Shopkeepers and vendors bent over backwards to please them. The shopkeepers would trail behind them, jumping to attention the moment he looked at anything. Customers would leave the store when they stepped inside. 

It was all so suffocating. 

Pretending to be someone else allows Malleus to experience the plaza like everyone else. Vendors make small talk with him, smiling without much fear in their eyes. Shopkeepers greet him when he comes in but leave him to peruse alone. It’s wonderful.

He comes to a storefront that looks fairly new. The freshly painted sign hangs over the doorway and depicts an open book. The small window display has a few books lined up, covers facing toward him. Though the library at the castle is one of the largest, Malleus decides to go in. Perhaps this place offers reading material he has yet to see.

---------

The sound of the little bell over the door ringing draws you from your daydreams. You quickly stand up from your seat. You put on your brightest smile as the customer comes in. He’s tall, needing to duck under the doorway. He’s rather plain looking with muted black hair and mahogany brown eyes. He’s dressed smartly in expensive looking clothes.

“Welcome to the Library Realms, sir! If you need any help, please let me know,” you greet in a cheery voice.

His eyes take in the small store before landing on you. “Thank you,” he replies, a small smile on his lips. He has a nice voice; not too loud and smooth.

You watch as he wanders to the far right side before sitting back on your stool. Glancing down at the book you had picked out for the week, you sigh as you realize you lost your place. You had been too busy daydreaming about the novel you were writing in your head.

Refocusing on the text, you lost yourself in the words. So wrapped up in your book, you didn’t notice the man standing in front of the counter until he let out a very loud cough. Jumping at the sudden sound, you sheepishly apologize, “Sorry! Did you need help?”

He gestures to the area around him. “Where did you get these books?”

“My parents are avid collectors of books, so they’re mostly from their travels. Each realm has their own unique literature, so why not bring it to the people of Briar Valley! That way more people can immerse themselves in different cultures and lands without ever leaving home. Being able to feel the heat of the Scalding Sands or the cool waters of the Coral Sea just from reading is amazing, isn’t it?” You pause as you realize you’ve started ranting.

The man doesn’t seem bothered, rather he has an amused glint in his eyes. “Sorry…” you mumble, feeling abashed.

“Do you have any recommendations?” he asks.

“Well, do you have a favorite genre?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll read anything.”

Scrunching up your nose, you look thoughtfully around before hopping off the stool. He follows as you quickly weave between the shelves. You grab a step stool nearby, and grab a simple, black leather book from the top shelf. The gold letter is an elegant, loopy script on the cover and spine. The leather is soft under your touch as you hand it over to him.

“It’s a book of fairy tales from the Scalding Sands. Now before you object that ‘fairy tales are for kids’ try reading it. The stories inside are beautifully written and filled with deep meanings. And the illustrations are so lifelike, they could jump off the page. It’s one of my favorites,” you explain, smiling fondly at the book.

He gently thumbs through the book before closing it. “How much do I owe you?”

As you lead him back to the front, you start telling him of the way the store works. “Since this is a library and not an actual store, you do have to return the book. Each book you borrow costs five thaumarks. However, if you decide to check out more books in the future, I would suggest the subscription model where you can check out ten books for forty-five thaumarks, twenty-five for one hundred twenty thaumarks, and fifty books for two hundred thaumarks.”

He stares thoughtfully around before responding. “I’ll just take this for now.”

Opening a thick ledger, you write the title of the book down, the date, and the cost. Your pen hovers over the name section. “Your name?”

“My name?” He blinks owlishly. 

“Right. Just to make sure people return the books within a month of borrowing. It’s a bit of magic where a letter will be sent to your place of residence when there’s about a week left before the due date. If you want to extend the time, it costs 2 thaumarks to get another month.” You watch as his eyes narrow. “No one knows your residence except the magic. Not even I will know,” you hastily explain.

He’s quiet for a moment before speaking. “Mal. The name is Mal”

“Just Mal?” When he nods, you don’t push further; anyways the magic will take care of everything for you. You write down the name and it briefly sparkles before fading back to normal black ink. “It’s nice to meet you, Mal.” You give him a genuine smile as you offer him a receipt.

His hand brushes against your own briefly. He’s surprisingly warm, you note. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, (y/n).” Another small smile forms on his lips. For some reason you have a feeling that his smiles are rare.

“I hope to see you again.” You give him a wave as he leaves. “Mal…huh,” you mumble to yourself, your hand still tingling.

---------

True to your word, the book is fascinating. Malleus finds it difficult to put down as each page draws him to continue into the wee hours of the day. The carefully illustrated drawings are created with delicate brushstrokes; it makes them almost pop off the page. The stories are set in the Scalding Sands, portraying everyday life with a twist. And you are right, it almost feels like he’s there in the desert with the characters.

Malleus does feel a bit bad for lying about his name. However, the moment you asked for his name, he felt a sense of dread. Would you become afraid of him if you knew who he really is? In that moment, he wished to be like one of his few friends, normal. It technically was a name his parents used to call him when he was younger, so it wasn’t a complete lie.

The dazzling, unrestrained smile you gave him was nothing like he had seen before. Besides the few close people he had grown up with all his life, he was used to scared looks and fake smiles. Your smile was real and filled with warmth that he wanted to see it again. The casual manner in which you spoke to him was also a breath of fresh air. Being able to converse freely with a near stranger is something he never thought could happen.

Malleus decides to visit your library again. Of course he wants to pick out another book, but he also wants to talk with you again. It’s almost two weeks later when he’s able to slip out of the castle in his disguise. As much as he enjoys the company of Lilia, Silver and Sebek, they can make it hard to leave the castle without one of them insisting to go with him.

He arrives at your store without making any stops. Stepping inside, he inhales the warm scent of ink and paper. You're sitting behind the counter like last time, bent over reading a book. Your name tag glints in the light as you look up.

“Mal!” you greet him with a pleased smile.

He steps toward the counter and places the book down. “Hello. I enjoyed the book.”

You place a bookmark in what you’re reading and move it aside. Summoning the large ledger, he watches as you place a check next to his name. “I’m glad! Are you here to borrow another?”

“Yes. I would also like to purchase the subscription plan.” He already has the money ready for the fifty books plan in a pouch tied to his waist. He sets the payment down. “If all the books are anything like the one you recommended, then I’m interested in reading more.”

Your eyes widen almost comically. “S-sure!” You quickly wave your hand, summoning another ledge, this one much smaller and thinner. “Which plan?”

“Fifty books.” He chuckles when you fumble with your pen. “I’d like your recommendation for those as well.”

“Of course! I’ve read a lot so I can definitely make a list for you!” you agree readily, your eyes sparkle even brighter than before. As you fill out the information in the book, you babble about different books. He listens with interest as your free hand moves to and fro as you talk.

You pause in your ramblings as you turn the ledger around and hold the pen out. “I’ll need you to sign just to confirm you confirm this purchase.”

Malleus mentally apologizes to you as he signs his fake name. Handing the pen back, you also sign below his and close the book. It vanishes in a puff of smoke when you snap your fingers.

“All set! Now we can get to the fun stuff!” You rub your hands together in glee as you move from the counter. “I know last time you said you don’t have a specific preference, so I think I’ll recommend different genres. It’ll give you a better feel for what you might be more inclined to read.”

You stop at the shelf from last time, planning to return the book he borrowed. Looking around, you frown as you don’t see the stepladder nearby. “Darn, someone must’ve moved it…”

“Allow me,” Malleus says. He takes the book from you and easily slides it back in its spot on the top shelf.

When he glances down at you, your cheeks are puffed out. “Wish I was as tall as you. Would’ve come in handy a lot,” you mumble. However, you stop pouting immediately as you make a beeline for a different shelf. “How many books are you planning to take out? Technically, you can take out all fifty if you wanted.”

“Just one will do.” This way he would have an excuse to come back and chat with you again.

As you thoughtfully scan the shelves, he notices two comfy looking armchairs wedged in the corner of the store. They’re angled at a slant so they somewhat face each other. Between them is a small table with an antique lamp that provides even more light. It’s a cozy private nook, and almost invisible unless one is paying attention.

“Are people allowed to use those?” he inquires.

You have a few books in hand when you look up. “Hmm? Oh! Yeah, you can sit there and read if you want. I thought it might be nice to have a place to relax. Unfortunately this place isn’t as big as I would like, so only two chairs could fit. You can stay as long as you want, or at least until closing.”

After putting a few books back, you hold out two. “I know you said one, but this one,” you shake the dark blue leather book with words written in wavy font, “has a sequel,” you wave the other book that’s a deep red with the same wavy font, “which you should read. It’s about a mermaid from the Coral Sea and a resident of the Queendom of Roses, who have a chance encounter.”

He takes the offered books, noting the titles are fairly similar. “I trust your choices. The last book was as wonderful as you said.” He follows you back to the front. “Are all these books collected by your parents?”

“Most of them are, though a handful of them were picked out by me. When I was old enough, I traveled to different realms looking for books on my own. I was born in Briar Valley but I grew up everywhere. My parents were originally scholars, so their jobs took them all over,” you explain as you write down the two books in the ledger. “And I came along for the ride!”

“Must be nice to be able to go anywhere you want,” Malleus muses more to himself than to you.

“Have you ever been out of Briar Valley, Mal?” you ask.

“I visited the Scalding Sands when I was younger, but nothing recent. I don’t have much time for leisurely travel. Perhaps some day…” 

You hand him the books. “Well when you go traveling let me know. Maybe I’ll join you. I have been itching to get back out there, but this place keeps me busy.”

“I’d like that.” He knew you’re only being friendly, but the idea of traveling together sounds nice. “May I use the chairs in the back today?”

“Of course! You’re free to use them whenever you want.”

Malleus finds the chairs much comfier than he imagined. He starts with the dark blue book.

---------

“Why did the main character do that?” Mal asks, his brows drawn together as frustration colors his tone.

You chuckle knowing exactly what he’s referring to. “It’s a defining moment for them. It shows us readers what they’re willing to sacrifice for the people they love.”

He shakes his head. “They could have done it differently without the needless sacrifice. There were so many different options they could have gone with.”

“I understand what you mean, Mal. It’s frustrating, but remember that this does fit in line with who they are as a person.” You mark the page you're on with a flower pressed bookmark.

Sitting in the chairs, you and Mal are chatting about the most recent book he started. Somehow you had found yourself reading with him when the library wasn’t busy, which are most days he visits. It feels like you’ve started a little book club with him as you discuss the turning points or plots of each book.

After spending a few months like this, you felt like you knew Mal. Unlike most customers who selected their books and left, Mal stayed to talk with you. The first day he came in, his magical presence was overwhelming. You nearly ducked for cover, but pulled yourself together. He deserved to be treated the same as everyone else regardless of how strong his magic felt. By now you’re used to his presence, and even enjoy it as it has become a comfort. He’s eloquent in his speech, and at first extremely polite. Eventually he loosened up enough to tease you and make jokes. 

Whenever he enters, it always brightens your day considerably. You share with him stories of your travels and your love of books. He does share some stories though he keeps them vague. Having interacted with him for awhile, you figure out that he has a hard time making connections for one reason or another. You do wonder if people are merely cautious around him because of how strong his magic feels. You do notice customers will give him a wide berth if he happens to be sitting in the back. It’s more noticeable in such a cramped space compared to when he’s outside. But it doesn’t matter to you because you like Mal.

You may have developed feelings for him beyond friendship. You’re not sure how to go about it, afraid of scaring him off. Your other friends just tell you to suck it up and kiss him already! It isn’t advice you’ll be taking any time soon, you decide.

Standing, you leave your book in the chair. “Do you want something to drink? Tea?” He seems a bit surprised at your offer but nods. “I also bought some pastries at the local bakery today. We can snack on those too!”

You return balancing two teacups while the pastry box and two plates float behind you. “I hope you like rose flavored tea because it’s all I have at the moment.”

He helps you settle everything on the small table. “It smells wonderful.”

“And for a snack a chocolate mousse and strawberry shortcake. You don’t mind splitting do you?” Your hand hovers over the small cakes with a knife.

“Of course not. They’re your cakes,” he says with a chuckle.

After evenly dividing the cakes and passing over a fork, you dig into the dessert. “I’ll admit I usually don’t eat dessert before dinner, but I couldn’t resist when I saw them. I was actually hoping you would show up today so I could share them with you.”

“You were?” He seems pleased as he watches you with his dark brown eyes.

You look away as you take a deep drink of the tea. “Well, you are a regular here, and I find talking with you to be…enjoyable.”

Glancing back, you nearly lose your breath at the radiant smile he gives you. You see his sharp canines glint in the light. “Thank you. I also enjoy my time with you, (y/n). I don’t have many friends, so I’m glad I met you. You’re a wonderful person with great taste in books and a beautiful smile.”

Flushing at his praise. “M-Mal…”

He smiles teasingly. “Why are you getting embarrassed? It’s true.”

You lightly swat his arm. “I-I’m not used to such compliments. I swear you just like to see me squirm.”

“It is fun,” he teases as he flashes his sharp teeth.

“You’re terrible, Mal.” Yet you can’t help but laugh.

As you enjoy your tea and snacks, you regal him with another story about your time spent in the Coral Sea. He always listens with rapture as you spin your stories. Sometimes having parents who traveled so much had its good points; you grew up seeing new places, learning new cultures, and experiencing more than a child your age would.

Near closing time, you do one last walk around to make sure everything is in order. Mal is waiting for you at the front. Turning off all the lights, you grab your keys and bag. “Let’s lock up!”

Exiting, the night is quiet as most people are busy having dinner. You lock the door before casting an extra lock spell. Though you don’t think anyone would ever break into your library, you decide to be on the cautious side.

The two of you walk side by side down the street and pass the closing shops. “So what are your plans for tonight?” you ask.

He looks a bit annoyed as he tells you. “Paperwork. Lots of paperwork.”

You give him a nudge with your elbow. “Shirking your duties, Mal? It can’t be that bad.”

The way his mouth turns down and his cheeks puff out makes you laugh. “I’ve been neglecting my duties according to Lilia. He’s been hounding me to sit down and work.”

“Lilia?” It’s a new person he’s never mentioned. There’s something familiar about the name but you can’t quite put your finger on it.

He brushes it off. “Never mind him. What are your plans for tonight?”

Though you want to ask who Lilia is, you decide to let it be. “Well I’m going to make something for dinner, then maybe do some work for the library and finish up a book if I have time. All very boring.”

“I guess we’re both very boring people,” he says with a mock shake of his head.

“Just two bookworms with no life,” you sigh forlornly. As you come to a crossroads, you give him a salute. “Well good sir, I will see you tomorrow?” you ask, hopeful.

“I have some business I need to attend to for the next couple of days.” He shakes his head while touching a hand to his temple. “Nothing I’m looking forward to, but it can’t be put off. My grandmother won’t allow it.”

You nod knowingly. “Then I’ll see you when I see you.” You give him a wave before heading to the road that leads home.

Stopping, you gather all your courage and turn back. “Mal!”

He looks a bit surprised to see you rushing back to him. “Is something wrong, (y/n)?”

You decide you will take your friends’ advice. “Lean down for a second.”

Mal bends down enough that you’re eye level with him. Quick as lightning, you place a soft kiss on his cheek. Feeling yourself warm up, you pull away. 

“B-bye!” Without waiting for his response you run off, nearly tripping in your hurry.

You leave Mal standing there still bent down, his cheeks turning pink as he processes what just happened.

---------

“Malleus, what is it you’re reading?” his grandmother asks. Breakfast is a quiet affair where his grandmother usually works and eats. Oftentimes he’s left to poke at his food, so he brought a new book you had recommended with him.

Looking up, he vaguely answers, “A book I was recommended by a friend.”

She smiles brightly. “A friend? Have I met them before?”

“No…” He closes the book before setting it aside. “More tea, grandmother?”

“Thank you but I’m fine, child. Will I be able to meet this friend of yours?” she inquires, not letting him off the hook quite yet.

How should he answer this? Malleus isn’t even sure if friend is the proper term for you. After your sudden cheek kiss, he went home in a daze. He spent a good part of the week trying to figure out how he felt about you. 

At first he thought he saw you as a friend. You are someone he enjoys spending time with talking about books and mundane life. To him, the visits to your store are the highlights of his days. Even his weeks. Being with you is easy. He doesn’t have to worry about what you think of him because your body language says it all. You’re comfortable with him, and he is with you. 

However the more he thought about it, perhaps he did see you as more than a friend. You made his heart beat a little faster when you gave him a smile or touched his arm. Sometimes he would stare at your hands wanting to hold it in his. And when you kissed him, a part of his brain wanted to call you back so you could kiss him again.

“Malleus?” His grandmother's voice breaks him away from the memory. 

Shaking his head out of the daze, he met her curious gaze. “Yes?”

She regards him for a moment before holding out a stack of papers. “Please look at these after breakfast and let me know what you think. We have a few more things we need to go over before meeting with the council.”

Taking the large stack, he nods. “Of course.” Back to work as usual.

It’s only a few days later that Malleus realizes he doesn’t remember where he had put the book. He looks all over his room but has no luck. He retraces his footsteps but can’t find anything. He even searches the royal library hoping that it was accidentally put there by a staff member. 

Malleus is beside himself when Sebek happens to walk in. “Young master, is something wrong? You look stressed!” The alarming rise in his tone does nothing to soothe the headache that’s coming on.

“Have you seen a small, brown leather book? It contains a series of short stories.” He’s pulling apart the couch in the sitting area once more.

“I have not seen your book, but I will look!” Sebek searches the room along with Malleus with vigor.

“When was the last time you had it?” Silver asks, having heard the green haired half-fae’s voice in the hallway. Lilia follows in behind him.

He’s silent as he runs through his day. “Breakfast time a few days ago with my grandmother. I had set it aside and she had given me paperwork to go over…”

“Hmm. Perhaps one of the cooks found it. I will inquire.” Silver leaves while Lilia ushers Malleus out of the room.

“The queen would like to see you to go over the dinner arrangements for the party,” he explains. However Malleus is too focused on other things to hear him. “That book must mean a lot to you, Malleus,” he comments.

He only nods in agreement.

---------

“So you’re planning to leave in a few months?” Mr. Wyrm asks..

“Yes, I think it’s time to close shop and go traveling again,” you inform him. “I’ll pay the last month's rent in full.”

He waves you off. “Don’t worry about it, (y/n). Tell your parents I said hello if you see them.” He eyes the shelves of books. “Where do you plan to store the books?”

“I have a friend who knows a shrinking spell. I can store them at home until I decide to come back.” The bell rings announcing the arrival of a guest. You both look over and your mouth nearly drops.

The queen of Briar Valley stands in your small library flanked by two royal guards. “Y-your h-highness!” Mr. Wyrm’s voice raises a few octaves.

You can’t help but stare at the woman. She’s not tall but she carries herself like she’s a giant. Her posture is straight and her shoulders are pulled back. Her very existence demands respect and recognition. Her gaze is sharp and intelligent, though there is a hint of softness. She keeps her face schooled in a polite smile as she looks around.

Turning to you and Mr. Wyrm, she asks, “Which one is the owner of the store?”

Clearing your throat, you hesitantly raise your hand. “M-me?” You wince at your meek tone.

“Hm. I wish to return a book that was left behind.” One of the guards comes forward with the book.

You take it with shaky hands. However, you recognize the book immediately. It’s the small collection of short stories you had recommended to Mal the last time you saw him. There’s even the handmade flower pressed bookmark you gave him inside. How on earth did the queen of Briar Valley get a hold of it?

“So you are the one my grandson has taken an interest in? I can see why.” She chuckles. “Are all these,” she gestures around the store “your books?”

“Y-yes!” Clearing your throat once more, you speak up at a more normal tone. “My parents collected a lot of these on their travels, and I also started doing the same.”

“I see. I’m sure he loves to hear about your stories,” she says more to herself.

You share a look with Mr. Wyrm before he ducks out, leaving you alone with the queen and her guards. “Um, pardon my question, but your grandson?” As far as you know, you had never met the future ruler of Briar Valley before.

“Prince Malleus. He’s been reading a lot lately, and I was curious to see where he got the books from. None I recognized from the royal library,” she explains.

You blink rapidly as your thoughts race. “But I’ve never met Mal-” You trail off as everything clicks into place. Your Mal is Malleus Draconia, prince of Briar Valley and future ruler.

The queen notices the way you seem to fall silent. “So he was using the transformation potion… I do apologize if what I’ve said has caused you any distress. I’m sure my grandson had a good reason to present himself as someone else.”

“I-I…I don-”

The door suddenly opens, the bell jangling loudly. Lime green eyes immediately meet your own.

---------

When Malleus had heard that his grandmother was going into town, he hadn’t thought much of it. He was still busy trying to find your book. However when Lilia made an offhand remark about a bookstore, he realized who had his book.

Without thinking he had teleported to town. He ignored the gasps at his sudden appearance. Your shop was close by and he headed right over. However when he neared the door, he knew he was too late. His grandmother was inside.

Opening the door, he sought you out instantly. You stare at him in disbelief. His grandmother turns to him with a knowing twinkle in her eyes. “Malleus, lovely for you to join us. I was just returning the book to your lovely friend.”

“Grandmother…” he growls lowly at her. She isn’t fazed.

“Since I’ve returned the book, I need to return to the castle. I’ll see you later, dear.” She bids you both a farewell, and leaves with her guards.

Malleus is left standing there. You awkwardly hold out the book the queen had returned. “I assume you’re not done with this?”

The way you  hesitantly look at him makes his heart ache. You usually smile brightly and casually speak to him. Now it’s like you don’t know how to address him. Which, he understands since you just found out who he really is.

He doesn’t take the offered book. Instead he walks around the front desk, so he can stand in front of you without something blocking him. “(Y/N)... I’m sorry for not telling you the truth. I just wanted people to not treat me differently because of who I am. For once, no one was afraid of me because I was just another person. Even with my magical presence, most people were able to ignore it when they saw I wasn’t anyone important.”

He wants to reach out to you like you sometimes do. Brushing your hand against his arm or squeezing his shoulder casually as you used to talk. “I just didn’t want to lose you, so I couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth. I hope we can still be friends.” 

He didn’t hope for more. How could he ask for more from you when he had lied. You, who was always so honest and open with him. You, who shared stories with him and listened to his not so interesting ones. You who’s eyes sparkled like stars and who’s laughter made him smile.

“I can kind of understand why you did it. I mean, I’ll be honest, if I knew who you really were, I probably would’ve been intimidated,” you confess. “I can only hope that you’d eventually tell me the truth, Mal.”

“Of course. I was trying to figure out how to tell you once I could get away. After what happened last time…” The memory of the quick kiss has remained in the forefront of his mind for a while now. “You deserved to know the truth.”

“Thank you.” Looking around the empty store, you gesture at the books. “I’ll be closing in a few months. I’m planning to do some more traveling, and maybe visit my parents wherever they are.”

He slumps a bit. “You’re leaving Briar Valley? For how long?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe a few months or so. It depends on what I find.” Fiddling with the book in your hands, you finally set it down. “The invitation still stands, you know.”

He’s confused, trying to remember what invitation you gave him “What?”

You smile at him just as brightly as before. It takes his breath away. “Come travel with me. I did invite Mal, which is you. That is if you can get away.”

“You really wish for me to go with you? Knowing who I am?” he asks, hesitant but hopeful.

“Of course! You’re still Mal to me. You might look different, but you’re still the same person I’ve come to know and care about.” You take his hand boldly. “Maybe you can add some new books to the collection.”

He cups the side of your face with his free hand. His green eyes glow brightly as he tenderly looks at you. “I want to, but I have duties here. Though my grandmother may let me, I can’t just leave. I’m sorry…”

You place a hand over his as you lean into his touch. “I understand. I’ll write to you then. And maybe someday you can join me when everything has settled.”

“I look forward to that day.” He places a kiss on your forehead before wrapping you in his embrace.

---------

Hello Mal!

I’m writing from a small village called Harveston. Did you know a place like this existed? I didn’t but I’m glad I got to stumble upon it.

There’s a lovely apple farm that I visited. Their apple cider is amazing! Maybe we can go together someday and share a drink?

I’m only here for a few days before I’m off again. I’ve collected a few new books along the way. I hope you’ll like them as much as I do!

How are things in Briar Valley? From your last letter it seems you’re very busy. I hope you get to rest a bit in between your work.

By the time you get this letter I’ll probably be sending another. I’ll let you know when I decide to stay a little longer.

Your bookworm, (y/n)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

I.R.L.📷1

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape, voyeurism/exhibitionism, slight stalking, masturbation, naughty talk.

This is dark!(camboy!)Andy Barber. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your guilty pleasures becomes and all too real terror.

Note: I split this into two because it kept stretching on and on ahah. But I hope you’re ready for a creepy ass camboy.

Thank you so much for your patience! And support!!

As always, if you are so inclined, please like, reblog, and comment. <3

You could blame your break-up or the pandemic but you were just lonely. Besides, Cam left you a year ago and the quarantine was long over. It seemed the whole word had moved on except you.

You always got that fluttery feeling when you opened up the tab and typed in the address. You keyed in your username and password and that moment of shame and guilt quickly passed. Men did this all the time so what was the big deal? You had the money and time to waste on the shallow release.

You scrolled through the active rooms and found ‘SuitNTie80’. There were a few times you tried other rooms but you quickly left, always keeping to your comfort zone, not that you were ever very comfortable. There was that shadow of guilt that lingered after but you learned to live with it.

You sat up and leaned on your arm as you watched the window load and the chat popped up first on the side. You were desensitized to the image of the naked body, the large hand around the thick shaft, stroking and teasing as he issued intoxicating groans. You piled your pillows behind you and bent your legs as you watched lazily.

You were mostly quiet but you were there at least twice a week. You didn’t have much to say in the text box and the thought of a private voice chat was too intimidating for the price. You sent your donations and went on your way once you got yours.

You tickled your leg as your eyes clung to the hair along his muscled chest and stomach, his thick thighs bent and bulging as he gripped his dick firmly. He was huge, not that you were ever a size queen, but it was a nice escape, a careless fantasy. It wasn’t hurting anyone to look.

You hummed and reached for your vibe. You leaned back and teased your clit. You got wetter as he moved around and the bold yellow font popped up in the chat box. You hit ‘pay’ and bypassed the tier. The chat dwindled and the muscular body laid back so that his dick stood straight. He continued to play with himself as he pushed his head into the pillow.

You grabbed your dildo and angled it down along your folds. You poked and prodded until you slipped inside just a little. You pulled back and pushed back in until you could take most of it, the vibe still buzzing against your bud.

Another paywall popped up and again you hit the big button and confirmed. You kept the transactions on your credit card and didn’t think much until the statement showed up. Again, the audience dwindled. It was Wednesday, there weren’t as many as the weekends.

You got comfortable again and pumped the toy as you rubbed the stimulator against your clit. You bit your lip and whined, close. The deep voice stopped you.

“Looks like it's just you,” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed and kept his hand moving.

You typed a hey into the chat and sent another tip. He smiled, only the bottom half of his face visible, the trimmed beard defined his already sharp jaw. You fell back again as you tried to focus on his hand.

“You’re here a lot, honey,” he purred and rasped as he rolled his palm around his tip, “every week…”

You froze and sat up stiffly, careful not to push the toy deeper.

“You don’t have to be shy,” he cooed, “we can go into a private room.”

You didn’t know what to say. You just wanted to cum and lay down. Forget about another long day back in the office.

“No charge,” he offered, “I’d just like to hear your voice.”

Your fingers tapped noisily over the whir of the toy, ‘why?’

“You’re my most loyal customer,” he slowed his hand, “just curious.”

You just sat there, your heart pounding. You liked not being seen, just watching quietly, just being there in the audience. You were embarrassed he even noticed the frequency of your attendance. You eased the toy out of you as you leaned an arm on your leg. You hovered the cursor over the leave icon.

The invited for a private room popped up and kept you from clicking, “just a few minutes, honey, I’m almost done and I wanna help you finish.”

You bit the inside of your lip and dragged your finger down the trackpad. You hit ‘accept’ and a pop-out window buffered as it requested access to your microphone. You could mute once you were in. You confirmed and the private room loaded. You maximized it and drew your hand back sharply, already regretting the decision.

“How are you doing, honey?” he asked, “anyway you want me?”

You stared at the screen, overwhelmed by the spontaneity and your natural shyness.

“I hear your toy,” he said softly, “why don’t you tell me what you’re playing with?”

You gulped and the mattress spring squeaked as you shifted, “um, I’m okay,” you answered his first question, “how are you?”

“I’m great,” he pushed the camera back and sat so that you could see all of him, “it’s nice to hear the voice behind the name.” His teeth grazed his lip as his muscles tensed and he groaned, “so what do we got, hmm?”

“Er,” you looked down, the toy buzzing against your thigh as you’d let it slip thoughtlessly, “a vibe and... “

“And…” he coaxed, “what else, honey?”

“Um, a dildo?” you said weakly, “erm, yeah.”

“Is it inside you?” he asked.

You choked and tried to smother it. You sniffed and clicked off the toy. “Sorry, I don’t think--”

“I want it inside you, now,” he said firmly as he stroked himself, “I want you to imagine it’s me, that i’m stretching you.”

You gaped at the screen as he watched you expectantly, almost as if he could see you. You always kept your camera covered though so at least he could only hear how clueless you were.

“Turn the vibe back on and put that dick inside of you,” he snarled, “come on, honey, for me.”

“I…” you breathed, “okay…”

You shakily hit the button so it vibed again. You asked yourself what you were doing as you slipped it down against your clit and pushed the dildo into you before it could slip out completely. You squeaked and he growled as his hand sped up.

“Mmm, is it in?” he asked, “all of it?”

“Y-yeah,” you murmured, “as much as… I can.”

You cringed at your own answer and he grinned.

“Oh, you’re tight?” he teased, “sounds like you need to be broken in.” You let out a breath as you sat unmoving, filled but paralysed by the intimacy of the chat, “go on, I wanna hear you, honey. I can’t finish if I can’t hear you.”

You hesitated but laid back against the mountain of pillows. You rolled the vibe flat to your clit and moved the dildo slowly. You quivered as the ripples flowed through you and made your toes curl, your legs splayed wide around your laptop. You can hear how wet you are as instinctively you move the toy faster and moan.

“That’s it, honey,” he cooed, “listen to you, hmm? So we for me…” his voice was a series of gasps as he added lube to his length and sped up, “how close are you?”

“C-close,” you rasped.

“Good, good,” his knuckles turned white as he worked his hand even faster, “I want you to picture me… balls deep… fucking you until your hips hurt… until you can’t walk…”

You let out a pathetic mewl as you fucked yourself harder with the toy, to the point of pain.

“What’s you’re favourite position, honey?” he asked as he used both hands on himself.

“Oh, uh…” you shuddered as you thought, trying to keep the toys in action, “doggy… I think.”

“Mmm, wouldn’t you like me behind you, pounding into that tight little cunt,” he puffed, “I can only imagine how tight you’d squeeze me… the way you’d shake… you think you could take it? Hmm?”

“Y… y… yes,” your voice fizzled out and you let out a strained cry as you came abruptly.

You panted wildly and turned onto your side as you squeezed both toys between your legs and groaned. A grunt brought your attention back to the screen as you twitched. The man cradled his sack as he came and strings spilled from his tip as his voice rumbled from the speakers. He smeared his cum all down his length until he was a mess and let his shoulders fall as he stilled his hand.

“Was that good, honey?” he asked as he looked into the camera.

“Mhmm,” you uttered as you sat up and slid the dildo out, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Yeah, it was, wasn’t it?” he stood and came closer to the camera, bending so that you could see his face clearly, he was startlingly handsome, “can we do it again?”

“I… don’t know,” you replied as you turned off the vibe and covered yourself as if he could see you, “maybe.”

“You did really well, sweetie,” he smiled, “and I really like your voice.”

“I…” you sniffed and swallowed as you glanced around your dark bedroom. Is this what you’d come to? “I gotta go.”

You hit ‘leave’ and immediately felt awful. As much for leaving him hanging as even indulging in the chat. You rubbed your temples and bent your fingers against your skull as you gripped your head. How sad could your existence be?

📷

The disconnect icon came up and Andy sighed. He closed down the chat and logged out. He sat and cleaned himself, gently as he was overly sensitive from over an hour of stimulation. He enjoyed his little sessions and he made a decent penny, not that he really needed the money. It was more the high than the dollar sign.

He pulled on a loose pair of silk pajama pants and the fabric tickled his tip cloyingly. He closed the lid of his laptop and tidied the room, stripping the bed and putting the plain cotton sheets back on. He sat heavily to catch his breath and leaned back on the heels of his hands.

He always saw her username in the chat when she entered and tipped but she never said anything. He didn’t think much of it, she was just another regular. LacyLilac; it was a cute name. He was just bored and wanted to try something new. It was fun and thrilling and just the sound of her wet cunt made him twitch.

He kept thinking about her voice. He was disappointed she left so quickly. He would’ve liked to talk a little longer but it was just a porn chat after all. What more did they have to say to each other?

He tried to match her voice to a face in his head. She was probably cute; she sounded young. Well, lots of people were younger than him. He was probably one of the oldest cammers on the site. 

She was shy though and he liked that. He’d married the outspoken one and he was over it. That turned to shit fast and look where it got him. Alone and pimping himself out for kicks. Yeah, it was fun at first, he liked being watched, it was always a game for him. He used to play with himself at his desk in his office, sometimes the interns caught him but they never said anything. They were too afraid.

That was all gone too. That life was behind him, so far it almost felt like it never happened. He wished it never had; wished he hadn’t wasted the time.

He stood and sighed. He took his laptop from the table and slipped it under his arm. He went downstairs and opened it on the counter. He let the screen saver bounce as he grabbed a beer from the fridge. He popped the cap off with the edge of the granite and watched the little wisp of mist rise from the neck.

He tapped on the pad and scrolled through his activity log. He found her name and clicked on it. Her profile was mostly empty except for the profile pic, a stock photo of lilacs. He got nothing from scrolling up and down the blank fields. Well, he knew a few tricks the cops passed onto him back in the day.

He opened another tab and quickly generated the link. He went back to her profile and clicked the little speech bubble beside her username. He took a moment before he began to type.

‘Hey, honey, I had fun. I hope to see you again on Friday <3. My schedule’s changing soon, you can see it here.’ He attached the link and hit send. He took a swig of the hoppy beer and leaned an elbow on the counter. 

All she had to do was click that link, if she didn’t, he’d have to figure something else out. Or maybe just give up.

The computer chirped as a green dot appeared beside her name. She was online. He saw the little eye beside his message and the dots as she typed. She stopped and he waited. Nothing.

He clicked back to the other window and opened up the visitation log for the link. He smiled and took another deep gulp. She’d done it. She tried to use the link and now he could see everything; her IP, her location, her internet provider. It was just enough to work with.

Bing. He switched back over to the chat and finally her response hung beneath his in a bubble.

‘Thx. I’ll try. The link doesn’t work tho.’

He typed with one hand as he finished his beer in sips, ‘sorry, honey. I’ll fix that and send an updated link when I get a chance. Have a good night <3.’

‘Good night,’ she responded and the green dot disappeared.

He set aside his empty bottle and closed the laptop. He was hard again. It didn’t usually happen so soon after a session. It was why he spaced them out. But he was throbbing so violently that just standing straight made him groan.

He gripped the counter and shoved his hand down his pants. He closed his eyes and exhaled as he quaked at his own touch. He thought of her little ‘ums’ and ‘ers’ and the buzz of her toy. Such a shy little thing acting so innocent and yet she was always there, watching him. 

Fuck, it wouldn’t take much more. Not as he thought of how she couldn’t even fit the whole toy in her sweet cunt. He would help her with that. 

📷

The anomaly soon grew to a habit. The second meeting was just as awkward. You didn’t do private chats, it was just easier to fade into the background, but the third was easier. Despite how your nerves flurried and your hair stood on edge, he made you feel comfortable, made you relax as you neared the tipping point.

That night, you promised him you’d be in the chat but things always went to shit when you had plans. You were almost relieved as your after hours activities were starting to get in the way of your work. You found it hard to focus when he kept sending you messages that filled your burner email.

You sat before the blue-tinted hue of the monitor, your eyes watering as the colours seared into your retinas. The spreadsheet left a template in your vision and you saw the little boxes even as you leaned back and rubbed your eyes. Maybe another hour and you could go and forget about the colour-coded rectangles.

You sighed and took out your phone. You looked out at the pen of cubicles, your small office forgotten in the corner. You handled the numbers and those only mattered when someone needed a new chair or the holiday party was coming near, and those tasks were easier left to the interns.

You yawned and swiveled back and forth in your chair. The little envelope floated in the margin. You dragged down the status bar and hit the icon. Your inbox was filled with alerts to new messages on the chat site. You only had your shell email account attached to your phone and kept to incognito mode on your laptop.

Only Lucy was still around and she was having a loud phone call on speaker a few offices down. She basically lived at her desk and served as a harbinger of your future. You opened a private window and signed in. You went to your profile and checked the blinking message box.

‘Hey, starting soon.’

‘On live now!’

‘Where are you, honey?’

‘About to go private.’

The last message was a sad-looking emoji and you shook your head. This was why you needed to stop. It felt special at first to be noticed, to feel wanted even if you were just a money sign, but it was growing exhausting. You hardly even enjoyed it anymore, you were just there to get off and get it over with.

‘Srry, caught up at work. Not going to make it tn.’

You hit send and blacked out your phone. You went back to the lifeless excel columns and compared it with the garbled mess corrupted on the second monitor. You told Stuart over and over to eject it properly and didn’t understand how the file hadn’t been uploaded to the company cloud. You shuffled through your papers and shrugged it off. No use being angry, no one cared.

Your phone vibed again. You ignored it and kept typing, looking through reports by the month as you keyed in numbers. A year's worth of tracking all down the drain. Buzz, buzz, buzz. Your phone wouldn’t stop.

You opened up your phone and went back to the private window. ‘You couldn’t tell me earlier?’ ‘Hello?’ ‘What did I do, honey?’

The messages came close together and you looked over at the log. His chat had gone inactive; it was early. You were slightly addled and confused by that.

‘It’s work. I haven’t had a chance. Can’t talk. Logging off. See you Friday.’ You hit the arrow and excited the window. 

You dropped your phone face down and hung your head back in exasperation. Your guilty pleasure was becoming a second job. The guy had enough viewers, he could hardly be missing your wallet that much. It was starting to get weird and you weren’t so sure you were going to tune in that Friday, you might be better off to catch up on your sleep.

📷

You kept your laptop off on Friday and opted instead to catch up the latest episodes of your favourite trash tv. The week was long enough to have you dozing off by the second episode and you woke early on Saturday, feeling more groggy than refreshed. Even so, you had two days to yourself.

Two days to catch up with your personal life. You went to the kitchen and used the last of the coffee. And the cream. Time for a shop. Well, you could still make a fun day out of it. There was a café in the same plaza as the grocery store so you could stop in and pretend like you were enjoying your time off with whatever specialty flavour they offered that day.

You didn’t get out before noon as you dragged your feet. Your mind kept drifting to your claustrophobic office and the migraine-inducing spreadsheets. You tried not to, fought your own mind as you steered into the parking lot, but you knew you had another week of bullshit awaiting you.

You grabbed a cart and made your rounds of the aisles, sighing as you waited on octogenarians to decide on a grain of bread. You hurried to check-out before you could get caught behind another dawdler and paid, piling your goods in your cart impatiently. You rolled out the lot and filled your trunk, pushing the cart back to the receptacle with the rest.

You hit the lock button on your keys and headed to the cafe. You eyed the strawberry and cream latte on the board as you stood in line. A deep voice drew your attention from the menu and your heart stuttered as you looked at the man at the till. It couldn’t be.

You got a better look at his face as he eyed the desserts in the glass case and pointed to the one he wanted. How in the fuck? The world couldn’t be that small. You tucked your chin down as your cheeks burned. You could only think about the image of him, or really his more intimate parts, and his low moans.

He swiped his card and moved along the counter. You stood frozen, not moving until the person behind you told you it was your turn. You apologized and moved up to the till. You stammered out your order and fumbled with your wallet, keeping your head down as you paid.

You kept your distance as you moved to wait in the corner until your turn at the window was called. You stared at the floor and tried to dissipate into the air as you pondered just leaving without your drink. When your name rang in your ears, you stepped up without look and collided with another.

“Oh, sorry,” the familiar voice made your eyes round, “shoot.”

You winced and pulled your shirt away from your chest as the hot coffee seeped down your front. You shook out the fabric and shook your head.

“It’s fine, I-- I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you dared to look up at him, unsurprised by your luck, “I hope I didn’t, er, spill too much.”

“I’m more worried about burning you,” he said, “you sure you’re alright?”

“Fine,” you repeated curtly and stepped around him, “really.”

You grabbed the paper cup and spilled even more hot liquid onto your fingers in your urgency. When you turned back the man was just ahead of you and he waited as he held the door for you. You ducked your head down as you passed him and thanked him with a mumble.

“No problem,” he said as he dropped the door.

You stepped off the curb and almost tripped. You didn’t look back as you rushed over to your car and searched for your keys in your pockets. You hit the button and quickly opened the door and flopped into the seat, placing your cup in the holder as more foam and espresso spilled from under the lid.

You hung your head back and sighed. You cringed and wanted to scream. You gripped the steering wheel and shook the whole car in your tantrum. As if your life couldn’t get worse. You were just one disaster after the other.

You wiped your hand on your jeans and started the car. Oh well, a forgettable slip-up. You wouldn’t remember it next week and he likely wouldn’t either. He didn’t even know who you were. Didn’t know you were one of the perverts watching him on their screen as they sat in the dark, lonely and desperate.

You pulled out of your spot and steered between the rows as you neared the exit. Fuck, you thought to yourself, you probably paid for that coffee. Ugh, why were you doing this to yourself? Making yourself feel worse and for what? He put himself on the internet, you were just supporting him.

“Just shut up,” you said to your inner voice as you turned out into traffic, “just stop.”

[thebeeduo]

Ranboo: Do you want me to just reading random- Do you want me to just- I'm gonna just start texting you

Tubbo: Yeah, just start texting me random input on the space

Ranboo: *texts Tubbo*

Tubbo: "Microwave explode"? Yo, thank you. "This is awesome"? Ok, stop texting me now. You didn't even respond to my message I sent you this morning

Ranboo: That's 'cause I was asleep!

Tubbo: Yeah, but like.. *sigh* Maybe I should just go live on instagram

Ranboo: Eughhh!

Tubbo: What? Is that cringe?

Ranboo: Yes

Tubbo: Maybe I should just go live on TikTok

Ranboo: Ahhh! Ahhh!

Tubbo: Is that cringier? Is that- *laughs*

Ranboo: *laughs* You go "Is that cringe" to Instagram and your next one is TikTok

Tubbo: *laughs*

Ranboo: I can make fun of it 'cause that's where I was born

Tubbo: Pffft!

Ranboo: I was born there/on TikTok [?]

Tubbo: Do you ever look at someone and wonder what's going inside their head?

Ranboo: I was- I was born on TikTok [?]

Tubbo: *starts playing the piano* You gotta remember your roots

Tubbo: I want my grand piano back, electric piano is cringe

Ranboo: *coughs* [unintelligible]

Tubbo: He just- He just decides "Oh I'm going to spit my germs around the room"

Ranboo: Yep!

Tubbo: *giggles* Wow, wow. You're a bad- I suppose you're anti-vax as well while we're at it

Ranboo: I am literally- I am literally vaccinated

Tubbo: I'm not allowed to be vaccinated, leave me alone!

Ranboo: That's just a major L for you then

Tubbo: Ahhhh

Ranboo: You're/Keep on getting coughed on!

Tubbo: *starts to play the piano intensely*

Ranboo: That's what happens when you're not vaccinated, people will come up to you and cough

Tubbo: That is a terrible sentence. I despise everything about that sentence

Ranboo: *laughs*

Tubbo: *plays The Owl House theme song, then switches to City of Stars*

Ranboo: Ughhh

Tubbo: So..

Ranboo: Oh my gosh!

Tubbo: What?

Ranboo: I just found more food to order

Tubbo: Nooo! Oh my god, if I get one more Amazon box arrive at my door and it's like a 25 large sized bars of Rice Krispies treats or fucking those shitty cheese squares that you haven't even eaten I'm gonna lose it

Ranboo: It's ding dongs

Tubbo: What the fuck is a ding dong?! That sounds like slang for a dick! You're literally eating dick!

Ranboo: *laughs* I am not! Jesus Christ

Tubbo: Why!

Ranboo: That is so far from what it is

Tubbo: What is it with all this fucking BS American food! Twinkies? Oh yeah, let me just-

Ranboo: I didn't get those actually. I don't know where those came from

Tubbo: Where did the Twinkies come from!?

Ranboo: I'm gonna be entirely honest..

Tubbo: Where the fuck did they come from!?

Ranboo: ..I have no idea where those came from. I did not order- That is not what I ordered

Tubbo: Look, you've got your-you've got your Cheez-It's and your Twinkies and your fucking ding dongs. I'm gonna f- I'm gonna blow some shit up

Ranboo: Sorry, I'll make sure to order a plain cheese pizza the next time

Tubbo: Honestly, that would be so much- I'm actually- I've been really healthy. So far I've had a fruit pop for breakfast

Ranboo: That's good. I had.. *silence*

Tubbo: You haven't had breakfast yet

Ranboo: I haven't- I haven't eaten yet

Tubbo: You haven't eaten yet today, and your first meal of the day will be Taco Bell

Ranboo: No, it won't!

Tubbo: Will it not? Oh

Ranboo: Why do you think- Taco Bell doesn't even deliver here!

Tubbo: *sighs* Fair enough

Ranboo: Why would it- Why- Mkay..

Tubbo: American

Ranboo: I know that the algorithm on Amazon works too well because it was [unintelligible]

Tubbo: *starts playing City of Stars again* Oh no

Tubbo: City of staaars.. *laughs* That song- It kind of annoys me, I'll be honest

Ranboo: I'm looking at- I'm looking at the, um.. I'm looking at your- the Tubbo space hashtag and someone just sent this, like, chart of, like, eye colour but it is, like, the most low res thing that I have ever seen

Tubbo: But I don't know- I think my eyes change colour depending on what I'm wearing, I'll be honest. Is that weird? Because everyone on twitter asks me "Ah yes what is your eye colour" and I'm like "Uhh how the fuck am I supposed to know" and then

Ranboo: My eye colour is [?]

Tubbo: Then I went through a bunch of like- I went through a bunch of, uh.. like, old photos of me and they just change colour depending on how sunny it is, what I'm wearing.. like.. Yeah, so, I don't know

Ranboo: *laughs*

Tubbo: What?

Ranboo: Nothing

Tubbo: What?

Ranboo: *loudly typing* It's time to listen

Tubbo: Time to listen to what?

Ranboo: To my music, I'm just gonna listen to my music

Tubbo: You're not gonna listen to me? Listen to me. Stop dancing. Knock that off. Yo, keep your clothes on! Woah, why are you so- *laughs* sorry

Ranboo: Why do you do this!

Tubbo: 'Cause it's funny, 'cause there's no video

Ranboo: Why do you- why do you do this

Tubbo: and.. and there's no video

Ranboo: What did I- What did I ever do? Nothing

Tubbo: *laughs*

Tubbo: *reads something about chip shops?*

Tubbo: Why do people keep sending me, like, soviet bunnies as well? I don't wanna see bunnies from soviet Russia. What's with the soviet Russia bunnies?

Tubbo: Thoughts on him? Bill Cypher? Pretty fun loving lad- Why did you just mention me and write "awesome"?

Ranboo: I didn't- No, it's a response to a tweet

Tubbo: Oh

Tubbo: *sees Michael fan art* "Oink! Hello father" Oh, I see

Ranboo: Just buff Michael

Tubbo: Buff- *laughs* He went to prison from lack of parent supervision and he came out buff, oh no! Oh no! *laughs*

Ranboo: What do you mean lack of parent supervision? I'm gonna go brush my teeth

Tubbo: Oh ok.. Bye

[Video cuts directly to when Ranboo comes back]

Tubbo: Hello. You seem hollow. Your mother is here? Wait, I shouldn't have read that out. You just texted me that so I didn't read it- Ok, well.. She's here guys!

Ranboo: Ahhh! Why!

Tubbo: She's here!

Ranboo: There's a reason-

Tubbo: She's here! *laughs* Just thought I'd let you know! *laughs* She's raring to go! That's awfully exciting..

[Video cuts again to the next beeduo clip]

Tubbo: Guys, I want to- How does one get the- What is the max people that have been in a single space, like, ever?

Ranboo: I own the number two spot for that!

Tubbo: Do you? How many was it?

Ranboo: Yeah. It was during MCC, it was 36k I think

Tubbo: 36- guys, can we get 38k please?

Ranboo: *fakes being angry* Can't you let me have anything!? *laughs*

Tubbo: Wh- Ok, Mr. 100k subs, Jesus

Ranboo: I don't- I got that once

Tubbo: Twice

Ranboo: It was six times actually..

Tubbo: SIX TIMES!? Oh my god, ok..

Ranboo: Alright... Goodbye space people!

Tubbo: Bye!

Ranboo: Goodbye!

Tubbo: Bye! Leave

Ranboo: I'm leaving the U.K. actually

Tubbo: He's not

Ranboo: *laughs* I'm not.. Wouldn't that be just terrible?

Tubbo: You just said bye and left..

Ranboo: The whole time everyone thought that I was going in, like, October but then I actually just straight up just leave..

Tubbo: You wanna go home?

Ranboo: ..in the middle of August

Tubbo: You can just leave.. get out!

Ranboo: Ok..

Tubbo: Pffft

Ranboo: Bye!

Tubbo: Bye!

[Video cuts again to the next beeduo clip]

Ranboo: I'm back from the U.S.!

Tubbo: Oh, what did you forget?

Ranboo: My- my beloved locket

Tubbo: *mocks American Accent* and the AirPods *laughs*

Ranboo: Yes

Tubbo: Have you told them what you've called your AirPods? The name of them?

Ranboo: Oh yeah, no, it's because basically, right, if you put a slash and then an asterisk at the end of a word it will bleep it out, so, right, me of course being young I thought that was the funniest thing to have that. So whenever Siri said my name she would just go like "You [beep]" so I thought that was funny. So it's like beeping noise, yeah

Tubbo: Oh, I see. So is that why mine do that as well?

Ranboo: I guess so, yeah

Tubbo: Yeah

Ranboo: Yeah.. yeah..

Tubbo: I see.. So..

Ranboo: I'm gonna go now

Tubbo: Bye, again!

Ranboo: Bye! Back to the U.S. I go!

Tubbo: There's no "E" in Tubbo.. Just throwing it out there..

[justaphangirl07]

could you write a smut imagine with tobi where you just tease the shit out of him until he’s begging 🦕

Begging On Your Knees (Tobi Brown/Tobjizzle/TBJZL Light Smut)

Tobi’s POV

I sigh as I pull up at the new Sidemen filming location with Ethan in the passenger seat

Today we are filming a hide and seek at the beta squad house

Usually, I am quite upbeat about recording with the boys

And I would be as well today if it wasn’t for the fact that I left my beautiful girlfriend in bed this morning

We had gone out last night and it lead to some passionate sex

Now I know that I give off a no sex before marriage vibe

But I know I want to spent the rest of my life with this girl

I can confidently say the sex over the last 4 years has been incredible

Y/n got me trying things that I never thought of before

She is one confident lady

“Don’t worry mate, it won’t be long till we are done recording and then you can go back to y/n” Ethan says as he pats my shoulder before he gets out the car

I sigh as I get out and join the rest of the boys as we start filming

Whilst everyone runs away into the massive house to find a hiding place, I decide to hide in plain sight

The process of my thinking for just laying on some chairs at the starting place was that the quicker I’m caught the quicker I can get back to y/n

Once I’m in position, I get my phone out and turn the brightness right down

I see a notification pop up on my lock screen saying I have a text from y/n

It reads: do you miss me already? ;)

I smile to myself as I reply

I always miss you, I miss you and your body ;)

I get a reply back straight away

You thinking about last night? ;)

I smirk to myself as I text back

When am I not thinking about our nights together? ;)

Three dots appear in a speech bubble before a text comes though

Trust me, I’ll have you begging on your knees for me when you come home ;)

Another text comes before I can reply

As soon as you get home, I’m in control ;)

Me and y/n have a role reversal kind of relationship

Sometimes, I’m dominant and sometimes she is

I guess it is her turn today

Not that I mind at all

Y/n sends another text

Might have to give you a blowjob to get you nice and hard and then ride you so slowly you’ll be begging for me to speed up ;)

My breath gets caught in my throat as I read it

As I’m laying on my front, I can feel my dick straining against my jogging bottoms against the chair and getting harder with every text she sends

I gulp as I reply

Fuck baby, sending me naughty texts whilst I’m filming with the lads. Making me all hard ;)

She is quick to respond

That was the plan, now hurry back ;)

I sigh as I put my phone away willing for my hard on to just leave

If the boys see this, I’ll never heard the end of it

I engage with the camera a few times and before I know it, I am the only one left to find and Simon’s face appears under the table which means they have found me

I happily get up from my hiding place and we say goodbye to the camera

Once we have stopped filming, everyone is chatting amongst ourselves

I walk over to where Ethan and Harry are chatting

“Do you have anything you want to record with the beta squad? Or do you mind if we get going?” I ask trying to leave as soon as possibly

Ethan smiles

“Actually I’m going to get the train with Harry because we are going to play football. You hurry back to y/n” he tells me

“Thank you for telling me, y/n here I come” I say before I say goodbye to all the boys and leave the house

I get in my car and start to make my way home

My dick is still a little but hard but it is subtle

I sigh as I drive down the roads getting closer and closer to home

And when I say home

I mean y/n

A/N: PLEASE REQUEST IMAGINES

Masterlist

[house-of-slayterr]

Mad Hatter

@howl-fantasies

Tw: Yandere and mentions of sexual assault

Maggies POV:

It was so nice to wake up in my own bed again. It was nice to not have overly lavish sheets and people doting on me every five seconds. Even mom never made me buy the expensive stuff for my room. I rolled over and smiled when I remembered the book Bruce gave me. I’d carry it with me everywhere. I got up and made my way over to the dinky coffee pot, and frowned when I realised I didn’t have any coffee. In fact it had been over a month since I’d been here, I’d probably have to throw everything out and buy fresh.

I quickly hopped in the shower and got dressed before heading down to the local coffee shop. Maybe I could get something fancy today. It was just nice to be out of Oswald’s suffocating grasp for five seconds. I opened the door and the sweet smell of espresso hit me. I was hooked on the Latte Y/N had ordered me way back when we first met. Nothing could ever beat that tatse.

“One french vanilla latte, extra foam and two plain coffees please.”

The barista took my order and left to make my drink. As I waited I checked my phone and realised there were 54 unread messages from Oswald.

“Shit.” I muttered under my breath.

I pulled up a group chat with Tabitha and Butch.

Maggie:

Good morning my favourite people on the planet.

Tabitha:

…

Butch:

Do you have any idea how much screaming we’ve put up with today? Where are you?!

Maggie:

Haha… about that.

Tabitha:

Don’t think just because you have a cute face and a nice ass I won’t kill you… cause I’ll do it… I’m this fucking close

Maggie:

Oh I believe, I’m not testing my luck. I just needed a break to clear my head for a bit. Just distract him until the end of the day ok, I promise I’ll be back soon 🥰

Butch:

The blushing heart emoji isn’t going to work this time…

Maggie:

What about my smiling face?

…

Tabitha:

God Damn it woman, stop being so fucking cute… well put up with the gremlin and his bullshit today but you owe us!

Maggie:

Whatever you say hottie 😘 I’m all yours

Butch:

Damn, I feel left out…

Maggie:

Please you know I’ll give you whatever you want, just might make you beg for it first

When neither of them replied back I assumed they got to work on distracting Oswald. The Barista came back with my drinks and I blushed when I noticed she wrote her number on the cup.

“I assumed the fancy one was yours cutie… text me” with a smiley face.

I don’t know what it was about Gotham, but I must have pleased Cupid in another life. Nobody ever talked to me, let alone approached me for dates back in Starling city. I was used to people flirting with Ollie and Thea all the time. Hell I even had to see people flirt with mom after Robert passed. It was a bit overwhelming, when really the only person I wanted to be with was Jim. But things just had to be so damn complicated.

I made my way over to the police station, taking the familiar path I used to take every day. I spotted Harvey right away.

“Long time no see mi amigo!” I greeted.

He turned around to meet my gaze.

“I see Oswald’s let you off your leash.”

“Let is a strong word… I broke out.”

He laughed.

“This one is for you!”

“Maggie, you didn’t have to get me coffee.”

“Really? You sure there’s not some law somewhere saying ‘you must bring your overworked cop friend coffee or you will be submitted to death by disappointed dad glare?’ Cause I think I read that somewhere.” I joked.

“I do not have a dad glare!”

“Yeah you do. You seen Jim?”

I saw his face scrunch up.

“Nope. Hey thanks for the coffee but I really got go handle this case.”

He was lying. I just sighed. I had to fix whatever this situation was before the tension destroyed me. It was driving me insane. I stood there for a movement sipping my latte, waiting to see if I would spot him, when someone popped into my vision. Lee. I frowned.

“How are you?” She asked in her sickly sweet voice.

“I’m fine.” I said a bit more bitterly than I meant too.

I mean what kind of girl leads a guy on, tells him that she loves him, then goes and gets engaged to Carmine Falcones son? Maybe Jim didn’t have enough money for her tacky taste. But all I know was that she didn’t deserve him. But part of his heart would always belong to her and I hated her for it. She must have picked up on my animosity, because she became blunt very quickly.

“I don’t think you should see Jim. Harvey told me you were looking for him.”

“Yeah, to bring him his coffee.” I waved the cup for emphasis.

“But he hurt you-“

“So people keep saying, but I want to hear it from him Lee. I wanna hear his side of what happened, because no matter how many times I try to run over the scenario in my head, nothing makes sense. So if you could please step out of my-“

Lee cut my off my by grabbing my arm and pulling me into the autopsy room. A small bit of Jim’s coffee spilt on my wrist and I held my breath at the soft pain.

“What the hell?” I exclaimed.

“Look I really don’t think it’s in your best interest to talk to him.”

“And I really don’t think I asked. I’m not a baby Lee, I can take care of myself. Grab me like that again you’re gonna be the one laying on that table.”

I motioned to the unfortunate soul who was splayed open on the cold metal.

“Are you threatening me?”

“Are you gonna touch me without my consent again? Cause I can get you for harassment and assault…”

“You’re being defensive.”

“You cornered me.”

Lee stepped to the side and I pushed open the door, glaring back at her. That’s when I ran into someone. Jim.

“What the hell?“ I heard him mutter.

“Omg Jim I’m so sorry.”

His whole body stiffened when he heard my voice. I cringed. I was yet again grabbed by my arm and dragged into a side room, but this time I didn’t much care. I stumbled a little bit Jim steadied me, realising he had been too rough.

“So first you accuse me of sexually assaulting you, and now you spill hot coffee on me?” He says, sounding annoyed.

“Jim I didn’t-“

“What, you didn’t tell Harvey that you didn’t remember anything from that night?”

“I did tell him that, but I didn’t know that was the conclusion he would reach. I didn’t know he would run with it! Jim I didn’t mean for any of this to happen you have to believe me.”

“Why didn’t you just talk to me?” He sighed.

“Am I not I doing that right now?”

I could feel tears spilling from my eyes and I frustratedly wiped them away. I felt like a child, it was so stupid to be crying. Jim was hesitant to touch me, that much was obvious.

“So you really don’t remember?” He said softly.

“I’m so sorry. Trust me, don’t you think I’d want to? I was dreaming of that moment since the day we met. And now I’ve gone and ruined everything cause I have this stupid memory problem.”

“Memory problem?”

“Since I was younger. Ollie, my- my brother, he says I lose time. And no matter how had I try I can’t get it back. Therapy doesn’t help, meds don’t help, it’s just gone. And I hate it so much. You must hate me.”

“I could never hate you Magnolia. I just, I really wish you came to talk to me sooner. Or maybe I should have come to you. Look, things will work out with time, but maybe for the time being it would be a good idea if we aren’t seen with each other.”

“Oh.” I choked out. “Ok.”

I ran out of the room, leaving Jim in my wake. I’m not sure how I expected this conversation to go, but it certainly wasn’t this. I hated this, I hated not knowing what was happening, not understanding my feelings. Everything felt broken. Before I knew it my legs dragged me to the Gotham cemetery of all places.

But I had to admit, it was quite peaceful. Not many people wasted their time in the cemetery, and at least I knew nobody would come looking for me here. So I walked to the corner of the lot and leaned against the fence, pulling out my backpack. I took out the book Bruce had gifted me, and quickly got lost in my own world. It felt nice to just turn my brain off for a while. That was, until I heard crying.

I tried to ignore it and just mind my own business, of course people would cry in a cemetery. I didn’t want to interrupt anything going on, that would be rude. But the utterance of a certain name caught my attention.

“Oh Alice, my sweet Alice, these roses I’ve painted red just for you. The white rabbits still hoping, the clock is still tocking, tomorrow i start a new.”

“Alice?” I questioned. A little louder than I meant to.

I hid my face behind my book when I could sense he would turn my way. I didn’t want to be caught staring, when Is hardly even gotten a glance. When he didn’t say anything, I assumed it was safe to move on as if I’d said nothing, but I was wrong. When I dropped the book, the man was right before me. I jumped slightly, dropping my copy of Alice In wonderland, but he caught it before it could hit the dirt. His gaze was intense, but I couldn’t seem to avoid its severity. The stranger was the first to break the silence.

“There is a place like no place on Earth. A land full of wonder, mystery, and danger. Some say to survive it, you need to be as mad as a hatter. Which, luckily, I am.” He spoke effortlessly.

“A hatter is only as mad as the head on his shoulders Mr….” I responded sceptically.

He broke into a smile.

“My apologies! The names Jervis Tetch, and what May your name be?” He bowed, gradually handing me my book and offering me a hand up.

I took his hand, it was softer than I expected it to be.

“Magnolia Blossom, but you can call me Maggie.”

“Maggie, like a Magpie?”

I looked at him incredulously.

“That’s what my brother calls me, yes.” I narrowed my eyes at Jervis. “And I suppose they call you The Hatter?”

He was dressed like one, and living in Gotham has taught me many thing, but I’ve grown used to expecting the theatrical. Everyone had a Persona, and I couldn’t tell his his first was Mad, or Jervis.

“Right you are little Magpie! Tell me, why is a Raven like a writing desk?”

“You haven’t the slightest idea.” I responded boldly.

An endearing smile crept onto his face. He must not have expected me to continue with my answer, because his face lit up even more if possible.

“But I suppose, it’s because they can produce a few note, though they are very flat; and it is never put with the wrong end in the front.”

He jumped up and down clapping!

“Spectacular, we’ll done! Well don’t my dear! Here, have a rose!”

He handed me one of the roses from the grave he was previously at.

“This is a Rosa alba.” I muttered, I didn’t think it was loud enough for him to hear.

“How could you tell?”

“Because Im a florist, I can always tell when a flowers been tampered with Mr. Tetch.”

“What a wonderful brain you have my sweet little songbird. I’ll be see you around, be carful not to fall down any Rabbit holes now.” He mused.

Before I could ask what he meant by that he was gone. God I hated when they did that. Ivy was good at it, Tabitha was great at it, and Y/N, fuck she was the best. I don’t know how they could just vanish without a trace. Even my own brother was good at it. Maybe it was a skill I’d have to learn if I wanted to stay in Gotham a little longer.

But skill building would have to wait, nightfall was coming and I was sure Oswald would blow a gasket if he didn’t see me by dawn. So begrudgingly I packed up my things and made my way back to the mansion. I hide the rose in my bag, not wanting Oswald to question me about it. I couldn’t risk upsetting him more than I already had. But thoughts of my new acquaintance plagued my mind on the journey home. What even would my rabbit hole look like?

An: I’m so sorry this took so long to write. I could have written more but my minds kinda blank right now. But I’ll have more ideas soon and the next chapter will be even better!

[woofchan]

♡What they teach you in art school - a beginner guide for graphic designers (by a graphic designer)♡

Many people on Tumblr start creating without any art education, and I really admire that! I always tell people that they don’t need an art school to create, especially when it comes to graphic design. However, there are things that art school teaches you to help you get better faster, and so I decided to share some of these ‘secrets’ with you. Of course, take this whole guide lightly, as I’m only putting this together to share my bit of knowledge with those who might be interested.

First of all, my art teachers always told us this: In graphic design, you learn the rules so you can follow them, but also so you can break them efficiently. This means that once you know the rules and why they exist, you will also get a feel for when you can break them and create something amazing. 

 Text

Let’s start with the most basic element of any design, the text. I had a typology class for a year and then we continued to study it in design classes. First, the choice of a font is crucial, but given current trends in graphic design, you honestly can make anything work. 

 Types of fonts

 As you can see in the picture, serif is more fancy, decorative, while sans is plainer. The only reason you, someone who just wants to create, should know the difference is so you don’t mix two fonts of the same type. Instead, if you choose to work with two different fonts in one design, you should combine one serif and one sans. 

On that note, please never use more than two fonts for one design - or, as we on Tumblr say, panel. The max number of fonts professionals go for is three, and even that is hard to pull off, trust me. 

 Size

Once you have chosen your font, you will probably wonder how big your text should be. Again, the size of it is up to you, but the general rule is to never use more than three different sizes of text. 

To go a bit deeper into this topic, you want to make sure that your texts of different sizes aren’t too close in the size. Always judge this by the visual, not the number you see when you size the font up or down. After a while of playing around with this, you will get the feel of it. 

 There are many more rules for text, and I see a lot of people breaking those ineffectively, so here’s a quick list of rules not to break:

don’t add shadow to the text

don’t add a gradient to the text

don’t add an outline to the text

Colours

When we look at the colours, you will notice that the graphic design rules tend to overlap. The only rule today’s graphic designers want you to follow is this: you shouldn’t use more than three colours if you are just starting out. Here I’m talking about the colours you yourself choose to use, not the colours of a photo you might be using – for example the colour of the text, background, graphic elements, etc. I also recommend always having at least one darker colour to make sure you have enough contrast in your work.

The examples I have here are my own designs. In the first one, you can see I’m using two contrasting colours while the background is “plain” light grey and my text colour is dark grey. Thanks to this, the yellow and blue pop nicely without being too much on the eyes. The second example is using only three main colours as the pop of colour is ensured by the picture elements. Because I am using a plain background, I can afford to go all out with my text colour. If I was to go crazy with my background, then the text would be “plain” (on the black and white scale) instead.

 These days, you can find great sources that will take care of colours for you. It is fun to experiment with them as long as you keep the number of them limited to three.

Some pages I recommend for picking colours are:

https://coolors.co/

https://www.colourlovers.com/

https://paletton.com/#uid=1540u0kllllaFw0g0qFqFg0w0aF

 Composition & White space

Now you have an idea of what to do with your text and how to pick your colours. What comes next is the actual composition. The first thing I learned in art school was the rule of the Golden ratio. You can use this as a guide for almost anything and the fun thing is this – you can use it whole or only a part, you can rotate it or reflect it and the composition will always look nice in the end. I really recommend just playing around with it until you get a feel for composition without it.

 One important rule I see most Tumblr creators not following is the rule of white space. White space is the space in your design that is essentially empty. It is used to both balance the design and to bring attention to the main element of the design. The general advice is to:

leave the most space at the bottom

leave at least a half of the bottom white space at the top

leave the same amount of white space on both sides

Also note that most professional graphic designers put the heaviest element of the design (aka the most important one) at either top or bottom, but rarely exactly in the middle. I’m not saying that putting your main element in the middle won’t work, but this type of composition is often harder to pull off, and if you don’t know how to do it, it can look kind of cheap. 

 That’s all!

This all said, the design is a subjective thing, and as I mentioned in the beginning, knowing these rules will simply help you once you decide to break them. If you have any questions or suggestions for what I should talk about more, don’t hesitate to message me here! I’m always happy to talk about design 

[rhine-gold-archive]

Hello! Could you please tag your nsfw works with just the plain smut and nsfw tags? They keep popping up in my tags despite the fact I have that sort of content filtered out. Thank you for your time!

Unfortunately, no, I can’t do it for you. Tumblr flags posts with nsfw tags and hides them from all tags, because it cannot tell which tags are supposed to be smut-related, so the post just becomes invisible. It’s a pretty known fact and I’ve had it happen on my main blog with posts that were not even that explicit. And if you have too many posts flagged, your entire blog might get shadowbanned and none of your posts, even without a trace of nsfw content, will show up in any tags and ppl will have to use like direct links to access your blog.

Which is why if you go to any smut tag, you won’t see posts with “plain” nsfw tags, it’s always like “smut + something else”, like “genshin smut” or heavily censored with spaces, symbols or emojis. It’s used to be worse, you couldn’t put nsfw words even in the TEXT of the post or you risk getting flagged. Now text seems generally usable, which is why all the content warnings go in the text on top of the post instead of into the tags, like on AO3. Now you can also generally reblog posts with nsfw tags for your own systematization, but if you’re op, you can’t *post* it with same tags.

Speaking of which, I’m curious which tags you have problem with, because now I don’t even tag fics with general tags like “genshin impact”, so if you have problem with my fics that I post like once in 2 months, you’ve gotta have like hundreds others showing up too. I wish tumblr’s tag system was usable for nsfw, but it’s unfortunately isn’t for now. They are promising to loosen up the restrictions, but until we have some actual proof of it working, sorry, I’m, not risking it. That said, may I suggest some options for you:

1.get a blacklist that can catch words anywhere in tags or text

2.I use “genshin smut” on all my smut fics and it seems to be a generalist smut tag in this fandom, so you can blacklist it and escape a lot of posts at once

3.Just block me, my posts will not show up for you anymore.

Hope that helps

[fishnets-fingers]

Six Months - Part Fourteen

Summary - Layla desperately needs a vacation and her Aunt and Uncle come to her rescue. So, at twenty two, she packs her bag and jets off to America. Harry took a break from education and is now a full fledged content creator on OnlyFans. At twenty, he makes more money than almost all of his friends. What ensues when these two meet and realise the windows in their rooms face each other? How will paper airplanes bring them closer together?

PAIRING - camboy!harry x indian!oc

a/n - i’m sorry for a three week break, i was caught up with my research work and I’m happy to say i’m done! please do let me know your thoughts, I really look forward to see your reactions. side note, i’m turning twenty three on the fifteenth - please come give me attention then. reblog and like as always. have a wonderful weekend. happy reading!

Word Count - 10.6 k

Warnings - fluff, angst, smut  (restraint).

Masterpost (find previous parts here)

Steady soft phlegm filled snores escape Harry’s parted blush pink lips. Layla hits send on an email she spent crafting for the last half hour to her department head. A small grey rectangular window pops up on the lower left corner of the screen. Message sent, it said. She was sitting on his desk chair working away on one of the syllabus, skimming through the pdf of the recommended textbooks and jotting down the book and the page numbers that she needs to refer to in a plain composition notebook. 

Her teeth are gently clamped on the pad of her left thumb, as her eyes dart over the screen that displays the text about the Triphase Model by Warner. She really wishes she had the yellow SFBT textbook in hand with her, so she could underline and scribble notes on the side because highlighting on Adobe was annoying her to no extreme. She notes down the page numbers with her blue mechanical pencil on the composition book that was on her lap. A sharp cough from Harry, makes her whip her head to the left to see him shuffle in the bed burrowing further into the sheets. As he settles back into slumber Layla could hear the soft wheeze that accompanied Harry’s every exhale. She sighs and shuts her laptop after she saves what she’s been working on. She puts the notebook on the laptop and folds her blue light glasses and sets them on top of the book. 

She pushes the chair back and sits on the edge of the bed, careful not to wake him up. Only his head peeks out from the sheets. His pallid face intensified the purplish undertones under his eyes. His lips were dehydrated and chapped. His brown curls looked a mess and felt dry when she cards her fingers through them. A soft sigh escapes his lips as she gently smooths his hair away from his face. She presses the back of her hand to his forehead to find it warm. Frowning, she reaches for the thermometer on his bedside table and gently sticks it in his ear. She pulls it out when it beeps and finds that it reads 99.9 F. Coarse whistles can still be heard. They weren’t as loud as before but they were still audible. The expectorant helped but Anne was right, he needed to be nebulised. 

Poor thing, she thinks as she ghosts the back of her knuckles against his cheek. His temperature is probably high because of the cold. Skinny dipping was not a great idea.

////

Layla turns on the tap and grabs the baby bok choy to rinse. The water droplets glint as they spatter on the sink as Layla shakes them to get rid of the excess. The soup was simmering in the pot. She raided the fridge, pulled out a few ingredients to throw together, not really knowing what soup to make. She didn’t want to make a creamy soup, in case Harry hurled and she wouldn’t be much of a help with a weak stomach. When she saw a Tupperware box with cooked leftover chicken, she settled on making a chicken noodle soup with a hearty Asian broth. She places the bok choy on the wooden cutting board and rocks the knife lengthwise into quarters. She tosses them into the pot and uses her ladle to stir everything in together. She taps on her AirPod to pause the audio, when she hears a faint shuffle coming from upstairs. She pauses for a minute, straining her ears to pick up on Harry’s voice. She only put on one AirPod for this reason. When she hears nothing, she concludes it’s just her imagination and goes back to the soup. She taps her AirPod again and the episode of Agadam Bagadam Tigadam resumes. Her phone was propped on an empty bowl. She opens the drawers and picks up two spoons and places them beside it. She takes her ladle and scoops up some vermicelli that was boiling in a small saucepan. After taking a stand and biting it to make sure it’s cooked, she picks up the vessel with green silicone oven mitts and moves to the sink to drain it. 

“Hi,” Harry’s tired voice rasps out.

“Jesus fuck!” She jumps, she manages to get the hot saucepan away from her and on the counter. “You startled me, Harry!” Sometimes Layla can’t believe that her clumsy ass boyfriend could be quiet as a mouse when he wants to be.

“Sorry,” he apologetically and a cough soon follows. 

Layla turns around to find him perched on a bar stool behind the island. Forearms resting on the top of the counter. Hair held back from his face by a small claw clip he stole from her. His green eyes were dull, cheeks sunken in, a fluffy blanket was draped over his head and his pinstriped pyjamas peek through under the blanket.

“How are you feeling now?” She asks, turning the stove off.

“Alright,” he says and pauses to take two deep breaths.

Layla narrows her eyes, not believing him for a second. She rolls her eyes and changes the subject. “I made some soup. Do you wanna eat now?”

He nods and she places the bowls on the counter. She pauses the episode on her phone and puts it on the counter as well. Harry sees a large man in an orange and light blue costume wearing actual mangoes around his neck. It was quite comical. She slides her Airpod in the case. She puts it next to her phone and goes back to the cutting board, grabbing a lime. The sight of her Airpods cover makes him smile. He remembers looking at it the first time when they ran into each other at the park the morning after she evaded him entirely during the housewarming party. It was a Super Mario cover and it surprised him to no extent that the awkward, self-effacing girl he met wearing a pink floral top would have a geeky side to her. But then again, she still somehow manages to challenge every assumption he made during that party. 

“I hope you are happy with chicken noodle,” she says, derailing his train of thought. She places two vermicelli filled bowls in front of him and spoons in some broth along with the protein and veg on top of it. 

“Smells delicious,” he says, weakly. A heavy whistle could be heard when he takes a breath.

“Hmm. I was thinking of broccoli cheddar but I thought it might be heavy for your stomach. If you did puke, I would have to join you with my head down the toilet bowl too,” she says, as she squeezes some lime juice in their bowls.

He arches his brow in response, egging her to explain.

“I have a weak stomach. I cannot handle throw up. So, if anyone around me throws up, I do too. Even the sound,” she tells him, shivering at the mere thought.

She pushes the hot bowl of soup with a citrusy aroma in front of him and hands him the utensils. Harry’s stomach growls in response, only having half a toast and some ginger tea in the morning.

She makes up her own bowl and climbs on the kitchen counter. She sits cross legged on the edge of the kitchen island, with a bowl of soup on her lap. She was easily an arms length away from Harry. He frowns at her, not liking the fact that she’s not next to him.

“Wipe that frown off your face, Har. I don’t want to get sick too. Who’d take care of you then, hmm?”

Harry grumbles something unintelligible under his breath.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing,” he murmurs, spooning a small broccoli along with some broth in his mouth.

“I took your temperature while you were sleeping and it’s slightly elevated. I want you to take some paracetamol your mum put on your bedside drawer after lunch okay?”

He nods. “What were you watching when I came in?” He asks softly, wanting to change the subject.

“Oh, It was a show I used to watch on Disney. It’s about the Malhotra family, who are aliens from the planet Zoltar. They parade around as humans and each episode is about them adjusting to Earth and keeping their identity a secret with all the hijinks,” she explains.

“And the man with mangoes around his neck?”

“That’s Tappu Uncle. He loves mangoes and blurts out something or the other that gets them into trouble.”

“Sounds a lot like a show I used to watch called My parents are Aliens. This alien couple comes to earth and adopts three kids from foster care and relies on them to teach them the way of life,” he finishes, dragging a deep breath in.

“Weird.”

////

Layla was doing the dishes after she was done with her soup. She put away some leftovers and wiped down the counter. She cut up a papaya and put it in a box to take it upstairs, so she can snack on it later. She swirls the sudsy water around the pot before pouring it down the drain. Under normal circumstances, Harry would insist on doing the dishes because she cooked but today he hasn’t said a word in protest when she hopped off the counter. He could tell Layla he was alright, but this alone gave her the indication she needed to call out on his bullshit and take him to the hospital.

“I’m done.” Harry announces, pushing the bowl away from him.

“Harry,” Layla sighs, looking at some soup still leftover in the bowl. “You need to eat, babe. I only gave you half the amount you normally eat. You need to have something in your tummy for the paracetamol.”

“But I don’t wanna,” he whines, like a toddler who was being dragged away from the playground.

Men are such babies, she thinks. He’s been very needy since the minute she stepped foot into his house. He whined when his pills tasted unpleasant. When she’d suggested that she’d go downstairs and work- so he’d sleep without any disruptions, he basically teared up and demanded that she was to stay in his room. He’d begged her to give him some cuddles, and pouted when she’d told him that she can’t afford to get sick because she had to go to the temple with her Aunt and Uncle on Tuesday. She eventually gave him her legs to cuddle with as she was looking through the textbooks. He happily wrapped his hands around her calves as the medications coursed through his bloodstream, knocking him out. 

“Harry Styles! You can either eat the soup slowly by yourself or I can force it all down your throat!” she says in a stern voice.

“Okay, jeez. You don't have to use your mom voice. It’s scary.” His voice trails off towards the end, getting fainter as he wheezes.

“Sorry. But you’ve been so contradictory all morning. You want to be babied, fine. I’m happy to take care of you but you’ve also refused to get nebulised. Don’t you want  to breathe properly. Stop being an obstinate son of a bitch, please,” she pleads.

“I’ll eat,” he acquiesces.  

“Thank you. Now, please tell me why you are refusing to get nebulised?” She asks in a gentle manner, coming to sit opposite him, watching him slowly finish the remainder of soup in his bowl.

“Because I can breathe fine on my own,” he starts. 

Layla crosses her arms across her chest, lowers her head down and gives him a pointed incredulous look.

“Okay, okay. I’m wheezing.” He pants, making a cough erupt from his chest. “But I’ve always needed to be nebulised once annually but I’ve been working out like crazy the past year and my lungs must be strong. I am strong. I just need…” his voice becomes faint and he wheezes, clearly becoming worked up over the issue. He reaches for his inhaler and shakes it.

“Shit! Okay… it’s okay,” Layla rushes over to his side and rubs down his back with a gentle pressure. Her mother used to do the same thing with her when she wheezed uncontrollably and it helped her tremendously. “You don’t need to explain anything okay. Just eat, okay.” She presses a kiss to his matted brown ringlets, as he took a big puff.

“I deserve a good cuddle for this,” he mutters, once he’s caught his breath and it makes Layla chuckle in response.

////

Back to the Future plays on Harry’s laptop. It was his go to comfort movie when he falls sick, he told Layla. Layla liked the movie too. She watched it countless times with her dad. They were both cuddled in his bed, under his sheets. Harry was the big spoon, he had his arm wrapped around her torso, while his leg was sandwiched between both of hers. His face was pressed up against the back of her neck, she felt his hot breath against her skin. His breathing was becoming a little bit smoother. The intensity of his wheezes had come down. The soup, steam inhalation and the humidifier in his room were definitely helping.

Her phone dings and it buzzes in her pocket. She reaches over to pause the movie, wiggles to fish her phone out and unlocks it. A smile stretches across her face as she reads the email. 

“Who’s that?” Harry asks, curious to see what’s got her cheeks lifting up and her dimple cratering.

 “My department head. I proposed an idea to change the way they grade - just for the papers I deal with- and she said yes. So yay!”

“What did you propose?” He says, nuzzling into her neck.

“We were usually given two huge assignments that were  each twenty percent of our final grade. They were so annoying because it was 15k and one was to be done individually and the other as a group.”

“Let me guess, you hated the group projects,” he chuckles in her ear.

“Yes! We didn’t even get to pick who we wanted to work with. They’d usually assign me with kids who didn’t give a single fuck. Some of them were nice to work with but most of them got under my skin,” she rolls her eyes.

“I’m guessing, being the nerd that you are, you immediately took charge and gave them minor things to do while you did most of the heavy lifting.”

“Yup!”

“They didn’t complain?” He asks.

“Well, would you complain when you have the highest grade in class,” she answers cockily.

“You sound so conceited.”

Layla shrugs. She locks her phone and puts it beside her head, on the pillow. 

“What’s your new plan then?” He asks. 

“Well, they insist on a group project but I’m asking the kids who they want to work with. They have plenty of other classes where they are grouped up by chance. This way they can have fun while working with friends. I’m also splitting the group work into two. They get to work on their projects and give me a theoretical paper - like four to five thousand words, which will be five percent of their grade. For the other five percent, they’ll take the theory and apply it to create a small workshop or an informal experiment of sorts, which they will conduct on a population of their choice. This way I can go see what they do and grade on the spot. For the individual work, it’s the essay but I don’t want to read  a ginormous essay after the next. So, I’ll probs reduce it to 4 or 5k and then they’ll get to present their opinion to the rest of the class. So, that’s the remaining ten percent.” 

“Sounds like you don’t wanna drone through all those papers,” he notes. 

“That’s true. But this way they have four shots at getting a decent percentage, instead of two. Plus two of them are on spot grading, so it’s less work for me,” she tells him. 

“Hmm. It is a great idea but if I was to choose between doing four small things and two big things. I’d choose the latter but if that’s the case for the rest of my classes then I’d go your route to escape the monotony and stress.”

“Yeah. Exactly. It was so boring to write lengthy papers. I wish I had this option. Plus, instead of giving them a particular topic to write about I’m gonna let them choose. They will have all the liberty to pick something interesting from the text or go the other way completely. Provided they stick to the topics in the syllabus of course,” she explains. 

“So by the end of the semester with the presentations, the whole class would have gained the knowledge of everyone's work. That’s actually super cool. You’re a great professor, Lails.” He kisses her neck as he reaches over to hit spacebar and the movie resumes. She tries to get cozy again, pressing her backside further into his chest. She wiggles her bum into his hips and she feels a certain hard member press into her ass cheek.

“Harry! You can’t be serious! You’re ill!” She laughs.

“I’m not horny!” He defends himself. 

“Does your penis know that,” she giggles.

“I’ve been semi hard since I saw you in the kitchen, I agree,” he admits. 

“I didn’t even know you can get hard when you’re sick,” she teases him.

“You can when it’s a love boner.”

“A what now?” 

“A love boner. I walked into the kitchen to find you busy making me soup. You rubbed vaporub on my chest, so I can sleep better. I was thinking of how lucky I am to love you and I got hard,” he smiles, hiding his face in her neck.

“I’m flattered but you’re a weird weird man, Har.”

“Most girls would swoon, you know. And here you are calling me weird,” he says.

“I’m sorry you ended up with me,” she chuckles sarcastically.

“Just watch the movie and stop rubbing your butt against me, dickhead.” He pinches her bum. “I love you.” He tells her, giving her hand a soft squeeze. 

“I know,” she says, raising their threaded fingers to her lips and kisses the back of his hand. 

They fall back to watch the rest of the movie. They get to the scene where Marty is writing a letter to Doc in the diner as he puts it in the envelope that says ‘Do NOT OPEN TILL 1985.’

Harry reaches over to pause the movie. “This is my favourite scene in the whole movie. You can tell how much these two care about each other.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty special. Mine favourite is when Marty picks up the license plate and says ‘you disintegrated Einstein.’”

“Hmm. Do you need a pee break before I hit play?” Harry asks. 

“No! Stop talking to me about pee, dude. But I do need to do something. Let me go get the papaya I cut up. Hold on.” She shuffles out of bed to get the box of papaya she put on his desk.

“I don’t remember buying papayas. Don’t think mum got them either…” he trails off.

“Oh um,” Layla’s face floods with heat. “I bought it over from mine.”

“I always get figs because I assumed it was your favourite. Is it papaya your favourite? I can stock up here if you want.”

“It’s not my favourite. I don’t hate it either. It’s just that ahhh… well uh…” she fumbles.

“What is it baby?” He asks, sitting up against his head board to get a better view of her face.

“Do you remember when we did it in the tub in the AirBnb?” 

He nods, a dopey smile stretching across his face. His dimple fully making their appearance. How would he forget? He got to properly feel her fully without a barrier and he swears he felt her wrapped snugly around him several hours after they got out of the tub. 

“Aunty gave me the safe sex talk after the whole Nandhini Aunty fiasco. And umm… we didn’t really use a condom and it scared me. I know you pulled out but she told me that precum could have sperm in it and it scared me. So…” She holds up the box of papayas in her hand, to explain the rest. 

“You eat a papaya when you are scared?” He had no idea what she was getting at. 

She lets out a breathy laugh. “No. Papayas help induce periods. It stimulates oestrogen, I think. I’ve eaten an ungodly amount of papayas and pineapples to get my periods quicker before a vacation.”

“Do you want to get to the drugstore to get the morning after pill or something? I can drive, baby,” he offers. He didn’t want her to be freaked out. They both clearly were not in a position for pregnancy, even the idea of a child, let alone raising one.

“No. I don’t think the pill works after a certain window. I’m just overreacting. I’m sure it’s nothing. You pulled out too. I’m just eating this every now and then, to calm my mind. Plus, better to be safe than sorry right?”

“Right.”

She gets on the bed with him and they watch the rest of the movie in silence. Layla pops a small cube of papaya into her mouth every now and then. 

The credits roll on the screen and Layla reaches for the thermometer to check his temperature. 

“98.7 F. Looks like the paracetamol worked. Let’s hope the wheezes subside soon too.”

“What’d I tell you? I’m fine. You and mum worry for no reason,” he says, nudging her shoulder weakly. 

“Would you rather we didn’t?”

“No. It makes me feel taken care of,” he says, meeting her eyes with an earnest look.

////

“Maybe we should go inside. It’s getting pretty cold out here,” Layla tells Harry. They decided to walk around the backyard because Harry was getting antsy being cooped up in his room all day.

“I’m fine. Just need some fresh air.” Dusk had set in making the sky a beautiful wash of purple. 

“How about we sit there and breathe in the fresh air?” Layla points to the circular lounge chair that was nestled towards the end of Anne’s garden. They both make their way toward it and Harry sits down right next to her. 

“Umm, Lails?” He says in a muffled voice, as he nestled his head into the crook of her neck. 

“Hmm.” She picks up a crunch orange leaf from the ground and starts ripping it, making sure the veins were intact. 

“Can you, umm,” he coughs. “Rub my back like you did in the kitchen?”

“Yeah. Of course.” She places her palm right in the middle of his shoulder blade and drags it to the base of his spine with a firm pressure. “Is it becoming bad?” His wheezing came back with full force as it started getting darker outside. 

“A little,” he sputters in between coughing into his tissue. 

“Harry, let’s please go to your mum. Stop being so stubborn. Getting nebulised does not mean your lungs are weak,” she tries reasoning. 

He drags in a deep breath. “Yeah. I know. I thought my endurance and stamina were building. I mean, I work out for vain reasons because I need to look good for OnlyFans but I just thought this would be a perk. But I guess not.”

Layla snorts. “Dude! I have shitty lungs too. I have two inhalers, remember? I’ve probably been nebulised for like four times. They were mostly because of a bad colds and a chest infection. But one instance worst of all, there were these gang of dudes smoking it up near the bus stop and the wind decided to fuck with me and it bought all the smoke my way. It was bad even when I moved. That night the wheezing got so bad, I needed to be nebulised. What I’m trying to say is… sometimes shit happens. That doesn't mean you aren’t strong enough or all your working out amounts to nothing. I mean you smoke me every time we go for a run or a jog in the morning.” She waffles about, hand steadily rubbing his back. 

“That’s true,” he snorts. “You complain and make me take a break every fifteen minutes.”

“Exactly!” Layla says, chuckling. “Remember what I always say when you say ‘five more minutes or a little bit farther’?” She asks. 

His dimples peek out when he smiles. “‘Harry I swear to god, I’d shove this shoe so far up your ass that the doctors will need to cut open your brain to find it!’“ He says trying his best to simulate the high pitched irritated voice Layla resorts to when she’s had enough. 

“And I will not hesitate to do it, if you don’t get the right medical help,” she threatens. Even though Harry had his head pressed into her neck, he can picture her with a single eyebrow arched up high, daring him to fight back. 

“Can we wait till a little bit? Eat dinner and go? It’s not that bad. Just regular old wheezing.”

“Okay. What do you want for dinner?” She asks, the other hand that was not tending to him, crushes the leaf in her hands. 

“Mac and Cheese. Mum adds brussel sprouts and bagel seasoning. Can you do that, please?”

“I’ll try my best.”

He sneezes into the side of her neck. Droplets of saliva land on her skin. 

“Harry!” She squeals, jumping further away from him. “If you get your germs on me and make me sick before I go to the temple, I’ll stab you in the throat.”

“Sorry!” He says sheepishly, wiping her neck with his tissue. “Your hair tickled me.”

“Liar. My hair isn’t even down, you idiot.” She laughs. Her hair was up in a bun held together by a satin scrunchie. 

“The sneeze caught me off guard. Sorry,” he admits sheepishly. “I don’t go around sneezing on others. My mother didn’t raise a caveman.” He says, in a teasing tone. 

She chuckles. “Sorry. Maybe I overreacted. But I’m okay with you getting your germs on me any other day but I’m really looking forward to going to the temple.”

“Aren’t you an atheist?” He asks, snuggling into her side as her hand comes to rub his back. 

“Absolutely right. I don’t believe in god. But I do believe that temple puliyodharai is the best puliyodharai one can have. I quite like going to the temple. I don’t pray specifically but it’s a fun place to people watch and listen to the stories from the sculptures.”

“So basically the food.” Harry says, with a smug look. He’s been around her enough to know the only thing that will get her doing things she doesn’t want to, is food. 

“Pretty much.” She shamelessly admits. “Plus, Uncle and Aunty want to go and pray about the baby before they break the news to everyone back home.”

“Hmm. What time do they want you back? I don’t want to get you into any more trouble.”

“I wasn’t in trouble. They were disappointed. Which is weirdly worse. Annoying. I texted the two of them saying you’re sick and I’ll be with you for the next two days. They’re chill with it.”

“I’m sorry. I honestly don’t get this Aunty culture. Nandhini didn’t have to tell on you.” He lets out a breath of frustration. 

“Don’t be sorry. It’s what Aunties do,” she shrugs. “Plus, if it’s anyone’s fault. It was mine. I was the one who initiated things anyway.”

He puts his hand on her thigh and squeezes in response. 

“Hey I noticed three big boxes in your room by the closet that had records scrawled on it with your chicken scratch of a penmanship,” she says, in a soft voice. 

“You choose to be a dick even when I’m sick. Unbelievable.” He tells her, rolling his eyes dramatically but the smile on his face told her otherwise. 

“Consistency is key, idiot.” She pokes his dimple. 

“Yeah. I got it to my room right after we came back from Vermont. I figured I can’t leave it up in the attic collecting dust forever. Like you said, I thoroughly enjoyed doing it and I’m not going to give anyone else the power to take that away from me. So I figured, I’d bring it down and put together an IKEA shelf and start arranging them. I don’t know if I’ll start listening right away but this is a decent first step, don’t you think?” He turns to fully observe her face. 

“Yeah. It’s a great first step. I’m so proud of you, babe.” She leans to place a kiss on his cheek. “Do you need a hand with all that?”

“I’m quite anal with how it’s arranged, so I think it’s best to do it myself.”

“Understandable.”

“I really had a great time with you in Vermont,” Harry says. His pale cheeks tinged with pink, as he started getting warm all over. 

“Me too. I’m glad I asked you to come with me. Don’t get me wrong, I would have loved having to stay in a hobbit hole alone but I’m so glad you came with me.”

Harry smiles. “I really mean what I said in the bath you know. I truly love you. I felt it deep in my bones with the moonlight illuminating every inch of your cute face in my arms. I’ve been feeling it for a few weeks. But I didn’t know that it was love. It just clicked at that moment that there’s no one I’d rather have in my arms.”

Layla was taken back. She didn’t know how to respond. She was stunned when he first said it. It made her feel all types of things. They were ineffable. She didn’t even think of herself as someone who was capable of being loved romantically. She grew up thinking whatever bullshit made her parents fight with each other was inside her wholly. She didn’t seek a romantic relationship or had someone pursue her. That and the fear of getting into trouble if her family ever found out. So, when Harry had told her that the first time, after the initial explosion of enchantment and tenderness that swept her off her feet, she chalked it up to impulsiveness. But when he said it again and again, that feeling of tenderness grew to squander her impulsivity theory. 

“You know,” Harry continues, derailing her train of thought. “Mum was the first one to point it out to me. It was that day you had a panic attack. I was confused and a downright mess. So I went and talked to her and she looked at me and said sounds like you are in love and I snorted that away.”

“Mother knows best.” Layla contributes. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“I haven’t said it back yet. Does that upset you? I mean I would be annoyed if the roles were flipped. I honestly didn’t know what to say. You have to understand that I do like you. Very very much. But I don’t know,” she sighs. “I’m scared that if I give it a serious label, it will all crumble,” she confesses. 

“Layla, baby, I told you this before, I don’t expect you to tell that to me unless you want to. And no, it does not annoy me. People have their own timelines. Take all the time you need. I’ll be right here when you are ready, my sweet girl.” He bends down to kiss the top of her head, inhaling the coconut scent of her shampoo in. 

“I really wish I could kiss you right now.” She whispers. 

“I know. I’m irresistible even with my bunged up snotty nose and tired eyes.”

Layla bursts out laughing. 

“You know what I don’t like?”

“What might that be, Earth boy?”

“That we both went skinny dipping and I was the only one who ended up sick!”

“That is unfortunate.” Layla lets out a chuckle. “But you brought this upon yourself. I blow dried my hair before going to bed and you went to sleep with damp hair-“

“My faculties were compromised. I blame the brownies. Yours was significantly smaller than mine and I had just used your eyeliner to draw googly eyes and a nose on top of my belly button moving it around and making it sing, Got to be Real by Cheryl Lynn.” He interrupts her, defending himself. 

“I don’t know if it was because of the weed but that was hilarious. My stomach hurt from laughing. But I wasn’t done before you rudely interrupted me. You also had every single drink with ice whereas I stick to hot water. You also refused to drink my tulsi, ginger, and hibiscus green tea.”

“In my defence, it didn’t smell very tempting,” he says. 

“And look who’s sick now.”

They both settle back into silence, taking in Anne’s plants and garden statues under the deck lights. They could make out a few stars in the sky and a shy moon that was busy hiding behind the clouds. A gentle breeze picks up and they both shiver in response. 

“It’s getting cold out.” Layla days, as Harry nuzzles deeper in her. ”How about we head inside and we watch Tangled? I could tell you why it is one of the greatest movies Disney ever made.” 

////

Harry looks at Layla in the driver’s seat. As promised, they had dinner while they watched Layla’s sexual awakening of a Disney movie. His bleary eyes and stuffy red nose by the end of it made her grab his coat to bundle him up and dragged him to the car. Layla spent ten solid minutes going through her checklist and figuring out what all the buttons do. He lets out a chuckle watching her adjust her seat forward. 

“Christ, how ginormous are you?” She asks, once she’s done. She had pulled the seat forward as much as it could, so her feet could reach the pedals. She reaches over to put her seatbelt on. 

He lets out a weak laugh that turns into coughs. She reaches over to smooth some hair away from his face, as he blows his nose into a tissue. 

“Okay. I’ve called Anne and she said will be waiting for us in the ER.” She informs him as she types in the destination on his GPS. 

He nods, unable to form sentences due to the wheezes. 

“Also, do you think I need to fill in some gas? I can’t seem to find the gauge with the symb-“

“It’s an electric car, you idiot. Have you ever seen me stop at the gas station when I drove you around sightseeing across the state?” He laughs, a scratchy phlegm filled one. It died down immediately and is replaced with sharp coughs that hurt Layla’s ears. He shakes his blue inhaler, pops the cap off and presses down on the canister. 

“Yeah. That’s what you get for making fun for me, you turd.” Layla mutters, hands busy rubbing his back to soothe him. “Feel okay?” She asks after he effectively catches his breath. 

“Yeah. You ready to drive?” He asks slowly, when she finishes adjusting her side mirrors. 

She wordlessly presses the button as the Range Rover roars to life. She waits for the sound to change and when it does, Layla white knuckles the steering wheel and takes a deep breath before pulling out of the garage and on to the street. 

“Maybe some music to dissipate the tension?” Harry suggests, as he watches her manoeuver the car to the destination. She wasn’t a bad driver at all. Just terribly slow and extremely anxious.

“Nope. No way! No distractions! You want us both to make it alive, don’t you?” She barks out, feeling jittery as she enters a busy Main Street. 

“Babe, I wouldn’t have suggested it if you weren’t good-“ 

“Harry please! Just let me concentrate! Don’t watch me either!” She says in a sharp tone, slowing down at the red light and gently pushing on the brakes. Successfully stopping the car. The red light invades their space, illuminating the high points of their faces, casting a stark dark shadow under her cheek and jawbone. 

“Sorry,” she sighs. “I’m just- I’ve never driven in this country and it’s all opposite. I’m just fighting the urge to not hurl. I’ll try my hardest to talk kindly,” she explains. Of course, everything is backwards here. They drive on the opposite side of the road. 

He puts his hand on top of hers on the gear console and squeezes it and gives her a reassuring smile. How could he be mad when she’s doing something she does not enjoy just for him.

“How about I just curl up underneath this afghan and try and close my eyes till we get there?” He says burrowing in the colourful blanket that she wrapped him up in. 

“Thank you. I’d also appreciate it if you moved your giant fat head away from the window so I could see the side mirror.” She teases him. 

He rolls his eyes. “Can’t believe I’m in love with a literal dickhead.” He does not move, eyes staring at her face. Layla’s eyes glued to the traffic light, fingers drumming on the wheel, lip gnawing on her bottom lip. 

Her face turns green and she nudges the car forward. “I’m serious about not being able to see the mirror, babe.” 

He reclines his seat and moves his head from the cold glass to rest against the headrest.  

////

“You know that’s asinine, Anne? I had to pay for parking! In a hospital. I’ve never paid for parking in a hospital back home.” Layla is  perched up on the bed, next to Harry. Anne was waiting for the two of them at the emergency room when they came in. Anne was sitting in a metal stool by the bed in front of Harry. 

The constant whirr of the nebuliser machine accompanied them. The machine was busy pumping out vapours through a tube. Harry was busy trying to inhale the vapours the best he could through the oxygen mask strapped through his head. Even though both women couldn’t read his face, or look into his emerald eyes, they both knew he was feeling so much better. His back was a little more straighter, his posture was still shit though due to the so-called paper route he undertook as a child- he’d told Layla one Tuesday afternoon when they went to Cape Hatteras.  He looked a little less weaker than he had when he slowly walked in the emergency room and beelined into his mother’s arms.

“Health care is one of the main things I miss from back home,” she sighs.

“Well, at least you’ll be back soon.”

Anne gives Layla a perplexed look. “Harry told me that you make it a point to go back to England for a family Christmas.” 

“Right. We haven’t booked the tickets yet. Harry said he wants to talk to me before we do that,” she explains.

Layla turns to look at Harry and he shrugs in response - eyes still closed- brushing it off. Layla decides to not press any further and Anne smiles. If her hunch is right, her son is going to ask her if he or the two of them could celebrate Christmas with his love. 

“Sooo, Anne? Do you have any plans for your birthday yet?” Layla asks. 

“It’s twelve days away, sweetie. So no,” she chuckles. “I haven’t gotten my schedule for that week yet, so it depends. The schedule doesn’t drastically change unless we are short of a few staff. If that is the case then, Harry and I usually do breakfast on my birthday. Maybe my book club friends would want to meet up.”

“That sounds like fun,” Layla says. Harry had already talked to her about a certain surprise for his mother’s birthday when they were in Vermont and Layla jumped in to help. 

“It’s not the most exciting but it still starts with something I love immensely, going out to try new breakfast spots with my little love,” Anne smiles at Harry, who gives her a thumbs up. Layla can’t help but feel quite jealous of the relationship between the two. For a brief second, she wishes that she had these cute little traditions with her mother but she squanders that thought away instantaneously.

The soft gargling of the machine stops and the whirring becomes a slight hum. Anne gets up to check on it and removes the oxygen mask from Harry. 

“You’re all done here, Harry. That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” She bends down and kisses the top of his head. “Now, did you eat?” She asks.

“Hmm.” Harry clears his throat. “Layla made me your Everything but bagel brussel sprouts mac and cheese.”

“Oh.” 

“Umm.” Heat flushes across Layla’s face and neck. “Harry told me how you make it,” she explains, feeling awkward all of a sudden.

“Wonderful, honey.” Anne tells her. “Now, did he give you a hard time while eating?”

“No!” Harry jumps in defensively.

“He did. He said he was done after like five bites of food but I forced him to eat a little.”

“I see. Harry, what have we discussed about not eating when you feel sick?” She says in her mom voice.

“Mum! I’m progressing. I went from not eating anything to eating a few spoonfuls,” he protests.

“I suppose that is some progress in your book,” she chuckles. “He’s always been fussy as shit to take care of when he’s sick,” Anne explains to Layla.

Layla giggles in response. Add clingy to the list now too, Layla thinks.

“Alright, you’re supposed to not call sick individuals fussy as shit, nurse.” Harry stresses the nurse and narrows his eyes playfully at his mum.

“I can if I’m their mum,” she playfully ruffles his hair.  

////

“Hello! I come bearing treats!” Layla hollers, as she walks into Anne’s living room. It was Tuesday afternoon and Layla walks into their family room holding two small cups in her hands. 

“Hi, sweetheart!” Anne greets her from the plush snuggle chair. Harry is sitting on a bean bag, a checkered board made of wood was placed on the table between them, a few pieces placed away from the board and the various others were scattered on the board.

“Oh, am I interrupting your chess match?” She asks.

“Not at all, Layla. Come on, join us,” she gestures to the space next to her. “I take it you are back from the temple.”

“Yeah and I came straight here with the பிரசாதம் (prasadham - sacred food that devotes or temple cooks and distributes it to the others who visit the temple after it’s offered to whatever god they pray to).” She settles down next to Anne. “Would you guys like to try some?”

“Yes, that’d be amazing,” Anne responds. “Let me go get some spoons real quick.” She heads into the kitchen.

“Are you angry with me?” She whispers to Harry. He hasn’t said anything to her since she came here, not even a hello.  

“What no!” He whisper screams. “I’ve never seen you like this before and I’m taking it all in. You look so stunning. I can’t even process anything. Just radiant, sweet girl.” That was the truth, he hadn't been able to peel his eyes away from her or form sentences when she first came into his field of vision. Her pink and gold kurti with matching pants (***). Her hair was in a loose side braid. A small bindi on her forehead and there were two streaks - vibuthi over and  kumkum under - it. She had no makeup on her face but her lips were glossy, Harry assumes it’s from her lip balm. 

Her face becomes hot in response and she gives him a shy smile. Anne walks into the room a few moments later, with spoons in her hand.

“Sweetheart, you look gorgeous. I should have told you when you walked in,” Anne tells her, sitting down next to her.

“Er, thank you. I usually don’t wear dupattas,” she points to the long rectangular fabric that rested on her shoulder. “But I felt very சமத்து (chamathu - good girl) today, so yeah,” she shrugs.

“Alright, walk us through each of these? They smell delightful,” Anne says, passing the spoon to Harry. She’d also bought some hot tea for him. His fever and cold had gone away but he still had a dry whooping cough from time to time. It wasn’t contagious or anything Anne worried about.

Layla points to one of the paper leaf cup that had a brown gloopy semi solid in it. “So, um, this is a panchamirtham. Panju means five and amirtham means sweet and delightful. The five basic ingredients are ghee, banana, honey, cardamom, and jaggery/ brown sugar. Sometimes people add apples and pomegranate in there and that’s always a win, especially with texture. I know it doesn’t look very appealing. It was an acquired taste for me and I have to be in a certain mood for this particular one.”

“The other one,” she continues, pointing to the paper leaf cup with rice in it. “This is puliyodharai. It’s tamarind rice with loads of peanuts. Honestly, the only reason I will even consider stepping into a temple. There’s just something about eating this in a temple; just tastes so much better.” She emphasises with eyes closed and her hand in a super gesture.

They both take a few spoonfuls and Harry claims the sweeter one as his.

“How long have they used these eco-friendly cups?” He asks her with a mouthful of a sugary banana mush.

“This is the only thing they've used in the temples I’ve been to for as long as I’ve known,” she says immediately.

“Do you want some Layla?” Anne asks, offering her the rice.

“Not really. I’d actually like some of yours,” Layla says.

“Nope. You probably had one at the temple,” he tells her, taking the cup away from her reach.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Liar. You really expect me to believe that you went to the temple and didn’t eat there.”

“I didn’t eat the panchamirtham,” Layla tells him.

“Harry, that’s not nice. Share, please. She’d been so sweet in taking care of you when you were sick. She even drove you back and forth from the hospital.” Anne chastises him.

“Driving. Ha. You should have seen her climb into the car-” Harry laughs.

“Hey, it’s not my fault that your car is not made for short people,” Layla sticks her tongue out at him.

“She’s actually a good driver. She’s just stressed. Her shoulders were literally stapled to her ears all the way,” he tells Anne.

“I’m super proud of you, Layla. Harry told me how much it meant to him that you drove him all the way to the hospital,” she says, patting her on the shoulder.

“It’s alright,” Layla dismisses the attention that has shifted towards her.

“Here,” Harry says, holding a spoon of panchamirtham to her lips, and she willingly accepts.

“See that wasn’t so bad now, was it? No need to be mean to her,” Anne tells him.

“She bullies me all the time. You’re just not around to see it,” he mutters, making Layla giggle. “Oh, mum, before you leave for your book club, can you take a picture of the two of us out in the garden, please?” He desperately wanted a picture of her in her outfit.

“I’d be delighted.”

////

“Okay. How are we gonna do this?” Layla asks Harry, who was pulling down his boxer briefs. They have been alone for a couple of hours now. Harry even managed to get a few cute candid pictures of Layla as she was looking at Anne’s new wind chimes.

“You’re in charge.” He simply answers walking over to her by his bed in all his naked glory. He reaches down to grab the hem to pull up her kurti top, messing up her hair. He smooths down the hair at the crown and sets her bangs in place. He reaches for her braid and places it back in its original place. Resting on her left clavicle. His fingertips trace the soft skin on the upper fleshy part of her breast that were spilling out from her blush pink bra. She’d taken off her kurti pants and was left in just her grey cotton bikini bottom. 

“You looked very alluring in your dress earlier,” he murmurs. His other hand comes to rest on her cheek, loving the weight of her warm cheek against his palm.

“You told me that before,” she chuckles.

“It’s the most Tamil I’ve seen you look! Sue me for relishing it.” His thumb caresses her lips and he slowly parts her lower lip a little. Harry was right, it is the most Tamil she’d ever looked here. She even had a small black circle, she drew with her eyeliner, in the middle of her eyebrows to serve as a bindi. 

“And you managed to make that sound like a fetish almost,” she teases, hands tracing the ferns and slowly making their way down to his semi erect penis. His heart races in anticipation.

He lets out a sharp exhale when her fingers enclose around him, and she feels him as he twitches in her hand, bloating up as she lazily tugs. “Don’t have any fetishes unfortunately. But I do believe you promised me to indulge in a little kink of ours.” He bends down and slowly kisses her. Layla swipes her tongue on his bottom lip and he grants her an entrance. She sucks on his tongue and he lets out a soft moan into her mouth.

“Go sit down against the headboard,” she instructs.

He wordlessly gets situated and Layla looks around for something she could use. They should have bought those fluffy handcuffs at the sex shop but oh well, they got to improvise. Her eyes gleam when it lands upon her pink dupatta. She feels very naughty as she picks it up. 

She picks it up and crawls on the mattress towards where he was sitting. She parts his leg with her knee and gets in between them. “How about you put your hands together above your head? I can tie you to the headboard. Are you comfortable with that?” she checks in.

“Yup.” He raises his hands above his head, bending them at the elbows. “Are you gonna use your dupatta?”

“Yeah. It’s the only thing we have for now. It’s cotton too, I hope it doesn’t leave any marks when you tug harshly.” She wraps the pink fabric around his wrists and ties them together like how she does with her shoelaces.

“Lails,” he chuckles. He gives it a weak tug and it unravels. “That’s the saddest knot in the history of knots.” He laughs.

“Shut it,” she giggles along with him. “I’m trying my best. It’s not like I have the handbook of BDSM in my back pocket. I’m doing my best.”

“You’ve always told me that you wanted to tie me up and you didn’t think with that big brain of yours that it would require, I don’t know… TYING!” He howls, wiping a tear from the corner of his eyes. Their laughs ring through the room.

“In my defence, I always thought there’d be handcuffs in said situation,” she explains, taking a deep breath after her laughter dies down.

“I’ll grab my phone and google it. Hold on.” He reaches for his phone at the night table and types on Safari.

“Really?!? You did not just type ‘rope kink knot tying,’ you fool!”

He shrugs and clicks on the first video that popped up on a handcuff knot. 

Fifteen minutes later, Layla had managed to secure his wrists together in a much more secure knot and binds it to the head board. She’s kneeling on the mattress between his legs, as she sticks her fingers between the rope and his skin to make sure it’s not too tight. She shuffles back to take in Harry in front of her, bound and at her mercy. 

“You know, I’d thought you would have gone soft by now?” She shyly says, looking at her semi erected cock. 

“Are you kidding me? You had your boobs in my face all the while. That’s heaven, baby,” he says huskily. 

“You are such a dude sometimes,” she chuckles, reaching behind to unhook her bra and she tosses them on the floor. She moves on to shuffle out of her panties and wiggles it out of her feet letting it land on the end of the bed. She straddles his tiger tattoo, looking into his green eyes. 

“Everything okay so far?” She asks. 

“Splendid. Now please have your wicked way with me, my sweet girl.”

She cups both his cheeks and brings him towards her to meld their lips together. Their noses were squished and Layla could feel his eyelashes on her cheekbones. Harry feels Layla’s breasts pressed up against his chest, her heartbeat against his skin made his cock stir. 

“I- uh. I think we should have some kind of a safe word,” Layla whispers against his lips. 

“I could always ask you to stop. It’s not like you are beating me up,” Harry reassures. 

“What about when you want your hands to be untied?” She asks. 

“Won’t untie me baby please work?”

“It would. But what if you want both of them at the same time?” She runs the back of his knuckles against his cheek. She could feel the slight stubble prickling her skin. 

“Fair point. How about red?” He really didn’t think they needed a safe word. It wasn’t like they were doing heavy shit. If they didn’t need one when she was fingering him, they certainly didn’t need one now but he goes along to put her mind at ease. 

“That’s so normie. Where did you get that from Fifty Shades? I know you can come up with something better than that.” She tells him. 

“Periwinkle?”

“Periwinkle it is!” 

She presses her forehead to his and lets her nails skate down to his now leaky cock. Her nails scrape against his nipples and he gets out a groan. She could feel every hard sinew of his chest under her palm. She kisses down his jaw, stopping to suck on a sweet spot in his throat. She spreads the bead of precum down his head, and her thumb presses down at the small slit. 

“Ah shit baby. Keep going,” he eggs her on. 

She spits into her hand and tugs on his hard cock. She trails kisses down his throat to his clavicle, as she kisses on the swallow that resides below. 

His pants get louder as she sucks on his nipples and her thumb swirls around his tips, giving it the attention that he craved. 

Her other hand that rested on her thing, comes up to grip on the side of his neck. Not squeezing it or anything. She just needed something to grip onto as she moved her throbbing centre against his thigh. 

“Urgh.” She moans, her head rests against his chest and she lazily jacks him off. 

“You make me feel so good, sweet girl.” He breathes out as he bucks into her hand feeling his stomach clench. His head rolls on top of hers. The feeling of her hot centre moving against him, coating his thigh in her slick arousal, was enough to make the rubber band in his tummy be stretched. He desperately wishes his hands were untied to help her move along his thigh wanting her to moan out his name. So, he does the next best thing.

“Harry, fuck!” She groans out loudly, when he lifts his leg up, moving it a little from side to side. The coarse hairs only added to the sensations that were shooting throughout her body. It was easy for Harry to really press up his thigh against  her because most of her weight was on her knees. 

She pulls away to fully look at him. His hands bound together by her dupatta. Head thrown back, sharp sounds escaping from his parted lips as his hips moved to push as much of him as he could in her warm palm. She twists her hand along his length, clutching and pumping him harshly, and he spills out a string of profanities. 

“Does that feel okay?” She checks in. 

“Oh yes. You are so good to me Lails,” he moans out and it makes her quiver. She reaches over to grab the small bottle of cotton candy lube, disconnecting from his throbbing member. She squeezes a grape sized dollop on her finger and spreads it evenly on the tiger etched into his thigh. 

She situates herself on him again as her hands come to hold on to his neck, not  and starts to rock herself back and forth. She moves faster and faster and Harry can’t help but move his thigh, adding to the pleasure. His mouth waters at the sight of her boobs moving when she rocks herself. 

“Harry,” she mewls, feeling the fire coarse through her body. Right at the edge, ready to burst any single moment. 

“That’s it, my sweet girl, use me.” He bends down to kiss her slowly in a very messy manner. It wasn’t a proper kiss because she was breathing into his mouth. 

“Nugh,” she breathes out as her thighs shudder as her orgasm takes over, she crumples against his chest, riding out her high. 

Several minutes later, he looks down to see her slumped against his chest looking at his very leaky cock. Her hands wrap around him moving up and down as she squeezes and pumps him. Making sure to swirl her thumb on the top every couple of strokes. 

“Baby. I’m gonna come,” he moans out. 

“No, you’re not.” She halts all her moments making him whimper. 

“Shh,” she coos, leaning forward to kiss him. “Look at me, Har.”

His glazed forest green eyes meet with her earthen umber ones. “I’m gonna untie you and I want you to put on a condom and fuck me hard. Understand?”

He nods. “Want me to get in deep?”

“As deep as you possibly can.” She lifts herself using her knees and unties the knot, freeing his hands. She rubs the skin around his wrists, inspecting for any sign of angry skin. 

“I’m alright. Felt really good,” he reassures her, bending down to kiss her forehead.

Layla says horizontally on his bed, so her head is against the wall. Harry picks up a condom from his nightstand and rolls it on himself. Once he’s between her legs on his knees, he lifts her left leg up and situates it over his shoulder. 

“Unless you don’t want me tapping out in the middle of things because of a cramp, I suggest you try it with my right,” she says. 

He switches her leg and pushes himself in her warmth. They both groan out, relishing the way they’re connected. He pushes in as far as he could, and her body sucks him in, until his balls skim her. 

“Shit, you’re so tight. Do you want me to finger you first?” It’s only been six days since they’ve had sex and Harry swears she’s clenching around him tighter than ever. 

She shakes her head. “I’m fine. Just fuck me, Har.”

He pulls out of her slowly until only his tip is inside her and slams in her roughly using his knees. 

“Fuck,” she screams out. “Do that again,” she encourages, lifting her torso up with her elbows. 

Harry holds on to her, one hand on her shoulder and the other on her waist and he slams into her again.  He groans out in response and builds a steady rhythm. 

“Fucking balls. Such a good boy. Don’t stop please,” she whimpers out. He was constantly nudging her g spot. 

“Am I your good boy?” Harry asks as he pulls out, bending down to rest his forehead against hers. 

“Yeah. You’re the best, babe,” she breathes gasping when he thrusts into her again. Her head hits the wall due to the force, not in a harsh manner, and one of her arms stretches out and grabs a pillow positioning it behind her head. 

She sloppily kisses him and Harry quickens the pace, rubbing, with harsh pressure, intentional circles on her clitoris using his thumb.

“Harry. Gonna come,” she groans out, he watches himself slam into her at the spot where they were connected and that all it takes for her to contract and spasm around his cock. Her eyes were shut, hands clutching the sheets, teeth clamped on to her bottom lip, as the warmth ignites her body. Her elbows give up from trying to hold herself up and she pushes her head into the pillow as Harry’s thumb still works slowly on her clit, helping her ride out her orgasm. 

“Layla?” He begs after a few minutes as his thrusts get sloppy. 

“Did so well for me, Har. Now let go. I want you to.” She says staring into his eyes, she could easily make out his blown out pupils. 

“I love you, sweet girl,” he moans out as his orgasm washes over him. He gently pushes in her a few times after he’s emptied himself, relishing the way she contracted around him in response. He puts her leg down and Layla curls her toes - her joins pop in response, feeling relief coarse through her calf because she was starting to cramp up. Harry lays down, resting her head on her thigh. He takes off his condom and drops it on the floor after tying it into a knot. 

They both lay there a while catching their breaths, legs dangling off the bed. A beam of sunlight pours inside from Harry’s window, illuminating their bodies. Harry moves to place a kiss on her vulva and she whines, pushing his head away. 

“I’m sensitive,” she complains. 

“Sorry. Just missed kissing you there so much,” he admits, feeling his neck and ears redden. 

“It’s been less than a week, Har.” 

“Still.” He kisses her thigh. 

“Was everything okay? Whatever I did? The good boy was too much dog speak, wasn’t it?” She asks. 

Are you kidding me? I thought I was gonna nut then and there. Please keep calling me a good boy.”

She giggles. 

“But seriously, you took great care of me. I love you, baby.”

“I adore you so much, Har.” She responds as her fingers rummage through his sweaty curls. “Now, come on, let's clean up. Then we can properly cuddle.”

“And I can be the little spoon?”

“Sure.”

After they both clean up. Harry passes her his t-shirt he was wearing earlier and she slips it on after she shimmies into her panties. He gets into his briefs and sweatpants. They settle on his bed and she throws her arm and leg over him, pulling him close, so his back is against her chest. She nuzzles her face into the back of his neck and inhales his scent. One of his hands splays over her thigh and he mindlessly draws circles on it. As she’s being lulled to sleep, Harry’s voice breaks the silence. 

“I bet Flynn Rider can’t fuck like that.”

“I cannot believe you are jealous of someone that does not even exist,” Layla chuckles.  

LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK SO FAR!

[bigwhispersbluebird]

Look into my eyes, and lie

Synopsis: Taehyung and you have been dating for years, serious enough to announce it publicly. Everything was perfect until he starts ignoring you and the only thing that breaks the silence is a rumour that might be the end of this relationship as you know it.

Angst, written from OC's perspective

Warnings: Insinuation of cheating

Author's Note: This will be a two-shot, hopefully.

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing off the hook. Even though I usually turn it to silent before sleeping but last night, I had consciously kept it on the highest volume in hopes that he would call.

Taehyung and I had met when my company was contracted to serve as publicists of Bangtan. Being attracted to one of the members went beyond every code of ethic that I had etched in my brain but there is little to be done when the only thing keeping you sane is a certain boxy smile and its owner's persistence. After a couple years of dating, Taehyung wanted to make it official by announcing it to ARMY, first and foremost. That was when the realisation had hit me that this relationship meant as much to him as it did to me.

While the media had tried to turn the situation against BTS, it was the faith and support of ARMY that helped in finding stability and an easy way through it all. Things had been great since then.

Until now.

Taehyung was out of reach, out of contact for days. Eventhough he had always made time before or atleast squeezed in a call, he had not even bothered to reply to my texts for days. More than angry or upset, it was worry that overtook my senses.

"Perhaps he was busy and finally got time", I thought suddenly when the phone rang again.

I sprang up and immediately started searching for it; hands splayed on the mattress, reaching out for him.

Although, as soon as I saw the notifications, my heart dropped. It was a bunch of calls from my company and hundreds of Twitter notifications. This could only mean one thing: another rumour or scandal.

I unlocked my phone, swiping left on all the notifications, searching for only one that I was looking for. But it wasn't there.

However, there was a message from Namjoon. Simple yet something that scared me to bits.

"I am sorry. Talk to me whenever you can."

What was he sorry for?

I tentatively opened Twitter, and soon I wished I hadn't. Ignorance is bliss and I would give anything to be the fool I was a few seconds ago still waiting on a call from the only person who had the power to shatter me like he just did.

"BTS's Taehyung spotted with a blond through the back alley of his private apartment. Unless Y/N has suddenly had a change of style, we smell something fishy."

Attached was a blurred shot taken through night vision camera. And if I hadn't memorized all the contours of his body, I would have second guessed who that person was for the sake of my sanity. However, one look and I knew that it was him. His arms around the waist of a blond I hadn't seen before. Her face was not visible but she seemed too close to him for my liking.

No, Y/N! Stop acting all paranoid. You know he is not like that. There must definitely be a reason for this image and the situation. And just because someone calls it an affair, doesn't mean it has to be. He would never disrespect you like that. Get a grip.

Repeating the same words in my head, I got up from my bed, ignoring the notifications that were still chiming on my phone. I almost believed what I was telling myself but the lack of explanation on his behalf made me question myself.

Shouldn't he have called me after seeing this? After knowing how it would affect me? Or maybe it is true and he doesn't have the nerve to accept it? Or perhaps, it is too much of bullshit for him to pay attention to it?

Questions after questions popped in my head as I got dressed for work, maybe he would drop by there? Amongst it all, the thing that was worrying me more was not the picture or the news but his absence from my life for so long that he hadn't even bothered replying to me. Whatever happened or didn't happen was about the night before so what was the reason of his anger before that?

Before leaving, I unplug my phone from the charger and once again scrolled through all the notifications. Messages from my friends, even his friends but none from him.

Frustrated, I climb into my car and turn on the music at the highest volume, hoping it would quiet down my brain.

*****

"Everything that has been reported is nothing but a misunderstanding and yet another manipulation of a simple situation to relay a story of your choice. Taehyung and I are still together and very happy and have only to be grateful to our fans that have believed us without reason. He is busy with his work and I am indulged in mine but please don't worry about us."

I turned off the television after watching myself strut inside the office building after giving a speech I wish I had believed with as much confidence as I had faked. But something had to be done about the reporters that had not moved from the building for the last four days. What didn't help the case was that his label had not come out with ANY statement nor were we spotted together. Everyone had assumed that we had broken up after Taehyung cheated. No matter what, I would not let a scandal tarnish his career.

My anger filled speech could not be nitpicked by even the most observant of people. That is what you get after years of being famous and now the head of the leading artist representative label.

But as I sat in my office room, overlooking the city, I could not mute the sound of my heart breaking.

I glanced at the frame on my desk. A picture we had taken on our trip to Rome. A simple one of us on the bike we had rented. Me holding on to his waist and him holding on to me, genuine smiles painted on our lips.

When did everything go so wrong?

I didn't even notice I was crying until my secretary knocked on the door, opening it simultaneously in urgency but soon halting noticing my state.

"It is okay, Kai", I waved at him, wiping at my face with the other.

"Um, apologies ma'am but Mr Taehyung is waiting for you."

My mind went numb. I didn't expect him to come anymore. Not after he had ignored my existence for so long now, acting like we meant nothing.

But he was here. He was here and I wish I had the courage to turn him away but I did not. I wanted to see him. Desperately.

Unable to voice out my thoughts, I just nodded at Kai who understood as he walked out, probably to lead him inside.

I immediately glanced at the mirror on the wall, my self respect intact enough to not let him know how much his indifference had hurt me. I would never give anyone that satisfaction.

But as he walked into the room, his familiar scent overtaking everything reminding me how every part of my own office was full of him. The picture on my desk, his guitar leaning on the farther wall, my side table still full of the lavenders he had bought me a month before, the coat hanger where his baseball cap still stands when we decided to leave our disguises and go on a sudden date. And well me, his from every aspect, body and soul. My heart almost stopped and my brain lost all reasons it had to put up a facade. I just wanted to run to him.

But all the emotions made me so exhausted that I kept sitting there, planted as if I would combust into ashes if I tried moving.

So I stayed, looking at him. Dressed like his usual self, a plain shirt with flared pants and a vitange coat. His hair styled like he had come straight here from work. He must have, I realized as I noticed what time it was.

"Tae...", I tried breaking the silence but all that came out was a meek croak. Clearing my throat, I tried again. "You came here from work?". Again, silence.

"Were you crying?", he said. His expressions stoic but worry shining from his voice and I wanted to burst into tears but I only had my dignity to hold onto right now.

"Not really. Kinda sick I guess so I might look red but I am fine".

I knew he didn't believe me but thankfully he let me live it down.

Moving forwards, he tentatively sat in the chair placed opposite mine and I knew how neither of us failed to realize how foreign that action was when usually he would grab a chair and place it right beside mine, pulling me closer to him until I was between his knees or how he would settle himself on the sofa and pat on it and I would rush to occupy the space beside him.

I tried to swallow another lump forming in my throat. This was his way of showing that things were different. And I wanted to know why. Was it someone else? Or did we just reach the end and I didn't see it coming?

I watched him as he looked down, fumbling with the belt of his coat, which he had not taken off, not expecting to stay long. His face which was always stoic failed to hide how desperately he was searching for words to make everything go away.

I saw it too and it was the only reason why I fought through all my resolve and spoke, not bothering to hide how vulnerable I felt.

"Taehyung, I don't want any explanations", I noticed as his eyes met mine, slowly, all his attention on me, "I don't want to know anything that happened before or anything that happened after you stopped talking to me". I stopped, my heart beating so fast I could hear it thump in my ears. His eyes fixated on me, his expression mimicking mine- awaiting what I would say next.

"Just tell me they lied", I spoke but it came out as a plea, my voice cracking as I tried to maintain eye contact with him through all the tears that were now brimming my eyes. "Tell me that nothing happened between you and the woman in that picture. Just say that and I will never talk about this again. I'll forget that these last few weeks ever occurred in our lives."

Taehyung's eyes did not leave mine, his expression unreadable now. As I continued speaking, his head fell low, trying to hide the tears that were in his eyes too.

"Tell me and I will take your word over everything. Please," I begged, " Please...".

I did not have the energy to continue as emotions overtook me and I helplessly sobbed, my entire body shaking and tears chasing each other down my cheeks. I covered my face with my hands, crying into my palms until I felt familiar warm hands on mine, pulling them to reveal my face.

My teary eyes met his and before I could try to understand what everything meant, he broke the silence, saying each word without breaking  eye contact so I could believe it, "They lied. I can't...I didn't cheat on you...".

As soon as his words reached me, my eyes failing to find a lie, I couldn't hold it in as I burst into tears throwing myself in his arms which were quick to catch me, enveloping around my body tightly showing that he won't let go.

So I cried into him while I felt his own tears dropping on my shoulders.

Nothing mattered. Neither the several days of not talking, nor the reports pouring in since that night. I knew that he was not lying and that was enough to make me let go of everything else.

For now.